The Forgotten
by Nika Dixon
Summary: Old friends reappear to help SGA1 and SGA2 find a missing Jennifer, who has been taken from them and has no memory of who she is.  R/K with implied J/T  With John/Teyla/Evan/Laura/SGA2...
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note** - I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Yes, I know it has been far, far too long since I have posted a story, but I'm back now with another tale from Pegasus! As always I'm so excited to have a tale for you that I may not have beta read as well as I should have. (Please ignore the typos)._

_Comments and suggestions are always welcome! :)_

_~ Nika_

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><p><strong>* The Forgotten *<strong>

* * *

><p>She awoke slowly, fighting to cling to the foggy remnants of her dreams. Dreams of warmth and safety. Of bright colours and smiles. Dreams of a city in the clouds, radiant and sparking with life and light. It was so clear she could almost taste the salty air from the sea that surrounded the tall towers. So much water. Clear blue and perfect; it covered the horizon in every direction.<p>

But the misty dream evaporated, leaving her to the cold and uncomfortable sway of the crooked bed that was reality. Gone were the clouds and sunlight. And gone was the man with the dark eyes who reached for her. Called out to her using a name she couldn't remember... A name she couldn't hold on to.

She opened her eyes and looked around the small room. Bare walls and empty floors. No furniture save for her bed and a chest of drawers holding her few items of clothing.

This was reality.

Not the dream.

Sighing, she sat up on the narrow cot. She stared at her hands, glowing in a narrow beam of sunlight arcing in from the slitted window high above her head. The golden light made her think of the tall towers of her dream city but the images were almost completely faded now. All she had was a feeling of loss and sadness. An urgency of something gone forever.

Squeezing her eyes closed she willed the images to return, but all she could grasp were two of the strange shapes that meant nothing to her awake. They were important. She knew that. But she just didn't know why.

She traced the patterns on her palm with her index finger, etching them into her memory, willing herself to remember their shapes even if she would forget the rest. An arched peak with a small circle hovering above it, and a darker symbol. Three dots. A single line. A winged line.

Sounds outside the door announced the arrival of a visitor. A metallic click of a key in the lock accompanied the twist of the handle of the door and it swung inward. An older woman stepped inside, a scowl dominating her wrinkled face.

"Time to eat," the old woman announced. She set a small bowl onto the dresser. "Get dressed. There is much work to do."

The door was closed forcefully and she was left alone once more.

She rose from the bed, placing her palm on the wall to fight off the momentary dizziness. The room settled its spinning and she stepped forward. Her bare feet protested the sting of the cold wooden floor.

She removed the smock she'd slept in, and dressed quickly in a simple skirt and sleeveless shirt. The material was rough and scratched her skin, but she knew she wasn't supposed to complain. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. So she left it at that.

On the floor next to the dresser was a bucket of water. She lifted a folded cloth off the handle and dunked it in the water, using the cloth to wipe down her face and arms. It was chilling, but helped clear the fog from her mind.

The bowl on the dresser contained a thick slop of liquid. Soup or stew. It smelled horrible. Something in her mind screamed at her not to touch it, but her stomach pained with emptiness. She knew she needed to eat. Her body needed the fuel. That and the soup made the dizziness go away. A fact she remembered from the day before even though most of her memories from yesterday were foggy and distant.

_A side affect of her condition_, they'd said.

Her injury that kept her from remembering.

They said she'd fallen in the woods during a rainstorm several nights past. She'd taken a tumble and hit her head. It had left her bedridden for many days. It was only yesterday she had finally been able to get up and move about.

At least that much she could remember. Yesterday. Starting in the morning and at various points through the day, her memory was clear. A few places were distant and hazy, but for the most part she had a clear image of her passage through time from the moment she'd awoken until she'd gone to bed last night.

It was the before that was blank.

_Everything_ before.

It was a blackness. A complete blank. She remembered nothing of her self. Her home. Her family.

Not even her name.

They called her Calara. But whenever she tried to say it, her tongue would trip over the word and they would have to say it again. Repeatedly. It was as though her body wasn't willing to help her either.

She touched her hand to her temple, feeling a pinch of pain as she prodded the scraped area along her hairline. She examined it beneath her fingers, lightly tracing over the scabbed skin to the bruised area under her hair. It was healing well. A fact she new from the touch of her own fingers. Yet she had no understanding of how she could know. Staring at the blank wall above the dresser she wished for a mirror so she could have a better look. Not that she would know what she was looking for. Or looking at.

Giving into the urge to be out of the claustrophobic little room, she lifted the bowl to her lips. The soup was barely warm. She closed her eyes and drank it quickly. A sharp bitter taste followed the bland mixture of root vegetables. It made her tongue tingle.

Her stomach protested as she set the empty bowl back down. She held her breath until the churning subsided.

Exhaling slowly she turned towards the door and slipped her feet into a pair of worn leather slippers. They fit loosely, too big for her feet, yet she'd been told they were hers. She tightened them as best she could. Perhaps she preferred them lose. It wasn't as though she could remember either way. She ran her fingers through her hair several times, pulling out the knots left from sleep, then opened the door.

The hallway outside was narrow, lined with a half a dozen closed doors. Rooms of the other members of the household. Rooms belonging to people she was supposed to have known her whole life. Yet the names and faces were completely blank.

She walked down the hallway to the open area at the end. An kitchen, spacious and bright, lined with cupboards. A fire burned in the fireplace, heating a pot of the foul tasting soup.

She stepped into the room, stopping when she realized she was not alone. An older man, well dressed in a fitted dark jacket, was seated at the table, finishing a breakfast of cheese and bread.

He looked up from his meal and pushed his still full plate aside. "Good morning, daughter," he greeted, his voice low and warm. "How are you feeling?"

Daughter. She studied the man who was her father, seeking recognition or any sense of family or connection, yet past a brief memory of him from the day before there was nothing but emptiness. His hair was short, silver at the top and temple, the colour matching the trimmed beard covering his jaw. His skin was dark from the sun, creased around his eyes which were watching her. Studying her.

She held her place, waiting for him to make the first move.

After a moment he stood and smiled. The pleasant expression removed the harshness from his stare and allowed her to breathe once again.

"Do not worry yourself," he said with a nod, holding his arms wide and beckoning her closer. "Your memory will return. We just have to give it time."

Guilt washed over her. The man was her father yet she thought no more of him than a perfect stranger. She stepped forward and accepted his quick hug. He patted her on the back lightly then pushed her away, holding her at arms length. "Now I'm afraid I have a favour to ask of you, daughter."

"A favour," she whispered, fighting off a sense of dread.

When he frowned, she cleared her throat and tried to sound more cheerful. More agreeable. "Of course," she repeated with a little more bravado. "Father."

His smile returned. "Tomas needs your help in the store right away. Thea has gone to run some errands today."

He watched her expectantly, and she nodded, connecting the two names with people. "Thea," she repeated. The name of the grumpy old woman who'd brought her breakfast.

"Your grandmother," her father confirmed. "And you met Tomas yesterday. Do you remember?"

She nodded. She did remember Tomas, now that her father had mentioned the name. He was a heavy set man with narrow eyes and a sharp nose. Clean shaven with short dark hair. She didn't think he wasn't much taller than she was, if she was indeed remembering the right man.

"He wears glasses?" she asked.

Her father nodded. "See, you're doing better already. But I'm afraid Tomas needs you to start right away."

"I don't know if I will be much help to him."

"Nonsense," her father said. "You do it all the time. It will be second nature. Just like walking and talking." He placed his arm comfortably over her shoulder and guided her towards the side door. As they rounded the table he snagged a piece of the thick yellow cheese and handed it to her. "Here," he whispered conspiratorially. "This will help get rid of the taste of that horrible soup."

She smiled hesitantly and accepted the cheese. She chewed slowly, letting the sharp taste fill her mouth and cover up the acrid leftovers of her breakfast.

They stepped through the door and into a long hallway. There were no doors other than the ones at either end. Light streamed through a collection of glassed slits along the ceiling. She looked up, catching sight of the clear blue sky high above. Small fluffs of clouds floated aimlessly, making her yearn to be up there with them. Sailing about in the sky. She yearned to touch them, to float with them, not be stuck behind the weathered glass of the ceiling windows.

"Come." Her father tugged her arm, drawing her attention back to him.

She followed him to the door at the other end of the long hall. He held it for her and she stepped through, nearly bumping into the man on the other side.

_Tomas_.

Yes. Now that she was seeing his face she could remember meeting him the day before. But aside from his name, anything else she knew about the man was gone along with the rest. She felt a slight flicker of guilt and disappointment. Tomas had told her yesterday they'd been friends since childhood.

Tomas stepped back, giving her room to enter. "Good morning, Calara" he smiled. "Thank you for coming."

Her father gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and stepped back into the hallway "I will be back for you at lunch." He turned away, closing the door behind him.

The click of the lock sounded drilled into her like a blade.

She turned back to face Tomas, but shied back when another man loomed out of her peripherals. He was big and bulky, wearing ill fitting trousers and a jacket that was stretched to near busting around his large girth. In his arms he cradled a rifle.

"This is Maron," Thomas introduced. He followed her gaze to the gun Maron carried. "Do not worry," Tomas reached for her wrist and pulled her towards the front of the store. "Maron is here for your protection."

"Protection?" she asked, worried about what she needed protecting from. Her father hadn't mentioned anything. Or perhaps he did and she didn't remember.

She rubbed her temple, wishing she could have her mind back.

Tomas lead her in behind a long counter, guiding her towards a locked box and a pad of paper. "I will assist the customers finding their items," he began. "I need you to keep track of their purchases." He pointed to the paper. "This is where you record everything that is purchased." He quickly showed her a sample of previous records, tabled with a neat description and the value beside it. He lifted a small key from the pocket of his coat and unlocked the small metal box. Inside were several bills and a collection of coins.

"I will help you with the sums if you get stuck," he added, quickly explaining the values of the coins.

She repeated the values back to him.

He nodded. "Perfect. Now...let's open the store for the day, shall we?"

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	2. Chapter 2

John Sheppard tipped his head left then right, briefly enjoying the cracking and popping sound around the bones in his neck as he released part of the tension built up after three days of running blind.

He'd shuffled through a full deck of emotions the past two days, shock and disbelief, impatience and fear, and had finally settled into a lethal dose of anger that was curling itself around his mind.

Someone had taken one of his people.

And that was _not_ acceptable.

It had been thirty six hours since Jennifer Keller had disappeared. A wink in time to the ancients, an eternity to those she'd left behind. The city had been put on full lockdown with all miltary teams recalled and reassigned to search for the missing CMO. Friends and allys were contacted. Enemies chased down and questioned. It was a well directed mess of controlled insanity as every lead, every sighting, every whisper was tracked down and followed.

Yet every clue dead ended into nothingness. They were no further ahead now than they were the moment they'd learned of her abduction. And it was starting to take its toll.

John glanced over his shoulder at Ronon, a hulking statue striding through the darkness on his right. John knew the big man was hurting, but words of comfort would be empty and useless.

It hadn't taken a genius level IQ to note there was something connecting the Satedan and the young doctor. After everything he'd been through, Ronon deserved a taste of normalcy. The comforts of home. Real friends. A companion. A woman who wouldn't take his bullshit or his solitary defiance, and who would always keep him on his toes. A beauty to his beast.

He needed Jennifer.

And Jennifer...well Jennifer needed someone who wasn't jaded by Earth's unwritten rules of who she should be. That she was too young for her position. Too pretty to be taken seriously. And the wrong gender to be in charge. She needed a champion. A protector. Someone to keep the wolves at bay and let her do her job.

She needed Ronon.

And while neither one would have admitted it, John hadn't missed the way they acted around each other. The awkward touches. The sly looks when each thought the other wasn't paying attention. The random times Ronon would let John win a sparring match just so they could visit the doc in the infirmary. The way the doctor seemed to loose her sense of concentration whenever Ronon was around. There were too many to list, and too many to miss. John didn't know for sure how far the two had progressed in their relationship-if at all-but the thread had been sewn.

They were a pair whether they admitted it or not.

But now Jennifer was missing. Dragged away from the home of a woman she'd been sent to help.

SGA4 had escorted her into the small cabin, but when too much time passed and she hadn't come back out, they'd rushed in to discover the cottage was empty. There was no trace of the older woman who'd taken ill...and no sign of the young doctor.

Ronon had tracked the captors to the creek running through the woods behind the cottage. Four men and two women, one with a standard Atlantis boot tread.

Jennifer had been alive when she left the cottage through the back window.

Both good news, and bad, because she hadn't gone willingly. Her footsteps had been staggered and uneven, suggesting she was walking under duress.

Ronon managed to follow the tracks back to the gate, but the trail died amidst all the other impressions from the daily gate travellers. After that all trace of Jennifer had disappeared into the stars. It was there the search had begun, and hadn't stopped.

It was only because of the required check in time he was was returning to the gate. Otherwise they would be back at the village, questioning the last of the villagers with Major Teldy's team.

As they reached the clearing, the stargate loomed up out of the darkness, its silver arch sparkling in the light of the full moons overhead. Crossing the wide field, John turned his head towards Teyla, walking silently by his side through he darkness.

They'd lost too many friends to this galaxy. Too many had been buried. To many gone. Carson. Ford. Elizabeth. Even Teyla. John's heart cramped to think of the days and weeks he'd searched forthis woman. Sleepless nights and lost thoughts, hours of grieving and fearing the worst.

Every time he looked at her he thanked whoever was up there for giving her back.

As though she could hear his thoughts, which he often wondered if she could, Teyla reached out and gripped his fingers, applying a gentle pressure of warmth of skin before she let go.

They continued on in silence, their walk brisk and purposeful. Time was not something they had to waste.

As they neared the DHD, the first of the chevrons clanked, announcing an incoming wormhole. Ronon immediately turned into the shadows, his blaster in his hand. John and Teyla stepped back, recent events leaving them unwilling to trust any newcomers to this planet.

As soon as the event horizon stabilized, a single man stepped through. The light from the moons above highlighted familiar military hardware as Evan Lorne jogged forward.

"Colonel," Lorne nodded, sliding to a stop in front of them. "We've got something."

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	3. Chapter 3

By late morning she was quite sure she'd had to have met most of the town in the few hours she'd been behind the counter. But despite the volume of newcomers, the sea of faces had blurred past in a stream of total strangers.

It would seem that everyone in the near vicinity knew she'd lost her mind.

With each chime of the door she'd been introduced to yet another person she was supposed to have known since she was born. Each one addressed her as Calara, told her random stories of their week's activities, and commented on happenings she didn't understand. After a while she'd given up trying to remember anything out of the fog that was her past, and settled into studying the people. Analyzing the ones who came into the store began as curiosity and a need to know, and ended with too many questions that were left unanswered...starting with why none of the women ever came into the store.

She could see them through the window, dressed in their colourful skirts and blouses, smiling and chatting with each other on the sidewalk and across the lane. Some carried packages. One or two dragged small children about on their errands. It looked almost as busy outside on the street as it did inside the store. Yet only the men ventured inside to pick up supplies.

When she could stand it no longer, she asked Tomas. His response was to laugh and tell her women should be happy the men were doing all the shopping for once. She wasn't sure why it was so funny, so she let it drop.

During the quiet times, Tomas and Maron would retreat to the back, their whispered conversation too quiet to reach her ears. She had no doubts she was the topic of their conversation, but at the same time, she was probably the topic of conversation across the whole village. She pretended to ignore them by drawing random sketches on a scrap piece of note paper while she tried to catch what they were saying.

The brief chunks of quiet were quickly interrupted by the next wave of curious villagers. Introductions and explanations were once again given, and pleasantries exchanged. Her cheeks were stinging from forcing herself to smile. A few of the late morning customers actually made purchases, but she understood it was more for show. They were there as an excuse to check out the sideshow that was her inability to remember anything.

She'd done her best to record the purchases neatly in the journal as required, but Maron's overwatchful attention whenever she handled the money made her nervous. It hadn't taken her long to understand that despite Tomas' assurances that Maron was there for her protection, it wasn't the patrons he was watching, it was her. Every time she moved, he shifted his grip on his rifle as though he expected her to leap over the counter and take him down like some kind of warrior princess. At the thought an image danced across her mind.

_A beautiful woman with dark hair, spinning gracefully around a soldier with dark hair, her bare feet connecting solidly to send him crashing to the floor. The dark haired woman laughed at the victory and the soldier laughed at the loss._

The vision called to her with such force it gave her an instant headache. She dropped her head into her hands and rested her elbows on the counter.

A presence passed in front of her and she opened her eyes, looking up into Tomas face. "Are you unwell?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

She nodded. Perhaps he would let her go lie down. The sooner she could avoid meeting any more people, the better.

Tomas turned to Maron. "Go get her another bowl of Thea's soup."

"What about her," Maron questioned.

"I'm here," Tomas answered, withdrawing a small key from his pocket and unlocking the door that lead back down the hallway to the kitchen. "Just go get the soup."

She shook her head at the thought of another bowl of that disgusting slop. The vision had gone, the dizziness abated. She didn't need the bitter soup. "I'm fine," she lied, forcing herself to smile.

"It is not open for discussion," Tomas said firmly, closing the door behind the retreating Maron. "You will eat the soup."

A chime over the door announced the arrival of yet another customer. As she turned her attention to the front, her breath caught at the sight of the man striding into the small shop.

He was a giant.

In stature alone he managed to overpower the entire room. Taller than Tomas by a head. Taller than her by even more. But his size and mass was not wide and sloppy like Maron's. Oh no. Where Tomas and Maron were soft and bulky, this man was lean.

Hard. Dangerous.

Headache forgotten, she couldn't stop staring at him.

He wore black leather pants tucked into worn black boots, and a black vest covering a black shirt. His muscular arms were bare save for leather gauntlets he wore on each wrist, and a strange looking band that circled one forearm. A long blade hung at his side, and the handles of several others extended from his belt and his boots. His hair was short, shaved almost to his skull, and his jaw was covered in several days worth of growth.

Tomas stepped forward. "Good morning, traveller. How can we help you today?"

The newcomer didn't immediately answer. Instead he slowly shifted his attention away from Tomas, to her. Trapped beneath his direct stare, she couldn't catch her breath.

"Supplies," he stated, turning his head back to Tomas.

"Of course," Tomas replied with a smile, but his eyes were wary. Tomas' attention shifted from the shelves, to the traveller, to her, then back to the traveller again. "We have many items. What exactly are you looking for?"

"Rope," the traveller commanded, turning his head slowly back until he had her pinned beneath his gaze once more.

His eyes were such an amazing shade-a warring blue green. She couldn't stop staring into them.

"We have several different styles of rope." Tomas stepped between them. He would have blocked her view of the newcomer if the traveller weren't so tall.

"Woven thread," Tomas continued. "Cawls-hide, light rope for mending packs, heavy rope for binding..."

"Heavy," the man answered, his gaze unwavering as he continued to stare back at her over Tomas' head. "Six arms length."

When Tomas didn't move the traveller blinked and shifted his attention. "That is all."

Tomas slid out from beneath the man's shadow and hurried to the back of the room to collect the rope.

In a single stride the traveller closed the distance to the counter. Despite her earlier fascination, she couldn't stop  
>herself from taking a step back. Even with the width of the counter separating them, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a very, very dangerous man. But the feeling alone gave her pause. With every other person she'd met today she'd felt nothing. No emotion. But somehow with this man...<p>

She lifted her hand to the side of her neck. Beneath the press of her cool fingers, her heart beat a hurried rhythm.

His eyes lowered, and she followed the direction, catching sight of her doodles sticking out from beneath the edge of the writing pad. Repeated sketches of the pointed peak with the tiny circle floating above. Panic jerked through her limbs. She snatched the small piece of paper and stuffed it quickly into a pocket in her skirt.

The traveller's expression didn't change. He just continued to stare at her as though he were trying to look directly through her.

When the door at the back of the room banged open, she wasn't sure who was more surprised. Tomas, who nearly dropped the rope he was bringing forward, she herself, who jumped even further away with a gasp, or Maron, who wasn't sure why everyone was standing about staring at each other in surprised silence.

Only the traveller seemed unphased.

At the sight of the newcomer, Maron frowned, unsure of how to juggle the bowl of soup and his rifle. His arms bobbled and he looked to Tomas for instruction.

Tomas stepped forward and dropped a coil of corded yellow rope onto the counter. "Six arms length," he said, his smile gone.

"Will there be anything else?"

Maron wedged his heavy girth in behind the counter. He sidestepped until he was standing directly beside her. He reached over and clunked the bowl of soup onto the counter in front of her. "Your soup, Calara" he announced then placed both his hands on the rifle.

The scent of the soup assaulted her nose. She swallowed quickly, feeling her stomach turn at the thought of having to drink it once again.

The traveller's nostrils flared. He glanced down at the bowl, then back up to her face. This time his attention was centered on her temple.

She nervously touched her bruised forehead, fluffing her bangs down to cover the injured area.

He blinked. Once. After a pause, he reached into his pocket.

Beside her, Maron stiffened.

Without reacting to Maron's bluster, the traveller slapped several coins on the counter. She reached for them, but Thomas dropped his hand over them first. "Thank you," he said briskly, shoving the rope closer. "Have a good day."

The traveller leaned towards Tomas. The shorter man took a hasty step back. Maron shifted his grip on his rifle.

Without a word the traveller picked up the coil of rope and backed towards the door. He gave her one last glance, then disappeared into the street.

She had a horrible feeling twisting through the pit of her stomach that she'd just missed something very, very important.

But she had no idea what it was.

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	4. Chapter 4

Unwilling to give into false hope, but equally unwilling to let any potential lead slip away, John kept his silence as he ran up the stairs to Woolsey's office. His attention skipped over the director to the two men with him. The first he recognized immediately-Ladon Radim-leader of the Genii. The second person was barely out of his teens, but the young man was also wearing a Genii unform.

All three men stood.

"Colonel," Ladon greeted. "Major, Ronon, Teyla."

"Ladon," Sheppard replied, ignoring his curiosity on the identity of the young man and getting right to the point. "I hear you have something for us."

"I believe I do." Ladon clamped his hand on the shounder of the young man beside him. "This is Daro. Six months ago Daro's sister disappeared while helping an old woman who'd become sick."

John glanced at the others. The similar circumstance was not missed by any of them. Jennifer had also been helping a sick, older woman. John turned back to Ladon and Daro.

"Tell him," Ladon encouraged the younger man.

Daro cleared his throat. "Colonel," he began. "Shaana is...was...the only family I have. After she went missing, I was granted a leave from my duties." He looked briefly at Ladon before continuing. "I have spent every waking hour trying to find her. To get her back."

"Did you find her," Ronon asked, stepping forward.

Daro shook his head. "No. Not yet. But in my travels I came across several families with similar stories. Each had a  
>daughter, a sister, who was taken while helping a sick old woman."<p>

Not liking the sound of this, John posed the question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. "How many?"

"Eight," Daro answered. "Well, nine, counting your Doctor."

"Nine," Telya repeated softly.

"Daro believes he has found a pattern," Ladon said.

"What kind of pattern," John asked.

"The sick old woman is not the only similarity," Daro answered. "Each woman was taken within the days following a local trade festival."

"Lorentia had a trade festival this week." Teyla stepped closer to John. "Two days before Dr. Keller was taken."

"So someone connected to the festival is behind the disappearances." Evan voiced.

"There's more," Laton said. "Daro was on Lorentia the night Doctor Keller went missing."

All eyes turned to the young man. Daro shifted his weight nervously.

"It's all right," Laton prompted the young man. "Tell them."

"I was in the tavern three nights back," the younger man began. "Two men in the corner were talking. Both had too much to drink so their words flowed a little too loudy. The stranger was talking about being paid a large purse of coin to escort a family from the far side of the village where the creek narrowed, through the forest, to the gate."

"Where Jennifer was taken," Ronon confirmed.

Daro nodded. "It sounded like it was not the first time he'd had to complete such a task."

"We've got to find him," Ronon looked directly at John.

"We already have him," Ladon answered. "The problem is, he isn't talking."

"I'll make him talk," Ronon growled.

Ladon shook his head. "While I don't doubt your abilities, Ronon, he isn't going to talk to you." Then he turned and looked directly at Teyla. "But he will talk to you."

"He cannot be Athosian." Teyla shook her head vehemently. She turned to face John. "My people would never be involved in such a thing."

"He's not Athosian," Ladon said. "He's Ahmazos."

John didn't know who the Ahmazos were, but from Teyla's expression, she did. "Who...or what..are the Ahmazos?" he asked slowly.

"Warrior tribe," Ronon answered first. "Lead by women."

"Women warriors?" John raised both eyebrows.

"Not...exactly..." Teyla glanced from Ronon to John. "The Ahmazos do not seek out battles, but they are indeed fierce fighters. However unlike most, the Ahmazos are a matriarchal tribe. As a ruling class, men have no power in their society. The men are considered...well...slaves. Non-people. Some are trained as soldiers, others serve which ever royal house they are born into. But they are never allowed into a position of power."

Richard Woolsey stepped forward, joining the discussion. "So the Ahmazos have taken Dr. Keller?"

"I do not believe so." Teyla shook her head. "Their blood lines are very well protected. They would have no need for another woman. And it is not their...style."

"They tend to keep to themselves," Ronon added.

"So how are they involved?" John asked, confused as to what the connection could possibly be between a warrior tribe and their very non-warrior doctor.

"I don't believe he was acting as part of his tribe," Daro interjected. "He was not dressed in their traditional clothing. I only recognized him because of the clan markings on his arms."

"Tattoos," Teyla explained. "Ahmazos men have tattoos identifying which royal house they belong to."

"So he's working solo." John surmised.

"Doubt it," Ronon growled. "If he's Ahmazos, he wouldn't make a move unless he was told to."

"Ronon is correct," Teyla added. "An Ahmazos man would not make such decisions on his own. But he would follow orders."

"The old woman?" Evan asked.

Teyla nodded to Daro. "It would seem that the old woman is consistent to the kidnappings."

John turned to Ladon. "Where is he now?"

"We have him locked up." Ladon answered.

"Then what are we waiting for?" John took a step towards the door.

"Colonel," Teyla called him back. "If this man truly is Ahmazos, then he will eat his own tongue before he answers any of your questions."

"Eat his own tongue?" John's brow furrowed.

Ronon stepped up beside Teyla. "Ahmazos men are raised from birth to believe no other man has power over them," he explained. "It makes them formidable in battle because they have nothing to prove, and nothing to lose. Teyla is right. They won't talk for us. But they will talk for her."

"Why? Because she's a woman?" John blinked, then turned quickly to Telya. "Not that that's a bad thing...I mean...I just meant..."

"I understood," Teyla nodded. "And the answer is yes. He will talk to me. If he believes I am Ahmazos."

"Right." John glanced at the group then turned to face the Athosian. "So how do we make him think you're...Ahmazos?"

"I believe I know a way," she replied. "Ahmazos matriarchs travel with six royal guards. Counting yourself, Ronon, and the Major, we are in need of three more. May I request the the assistance of the Major's team?"

John tipped his head to Evan, who stepped into the hallway to contact his men.

Teyla turned back to John. "I must go change. Please have them gather in the gateroom in fifteen minutes. Ronon will explain."

"Done," John agreed.

"There is one other...thing," she asked with slight hesitance.

"Name it," he answered.

"If we are to make this work, we need one more person."

John nodded. "Who?"

"Lieutenant Cadman."

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	5. Chapter 5

Ronon paced across the front of the inactive stargate. He wanted to grasp onto the hope that the Ahmazos would know where Jennifer was, but at the same time he was almost afraid to let that hope plant its seed. He couldn't stop thinking of all the reasons someone would take her. There were too many...and they hurt to much to consider.

He glanced briefly at the gathered group standing in the middle of the gateroom. Lorne's team. Sheppard. He knew without doubt that each man would give their life to save the doctor. As would he. But this time the battle would not involve weapons. Their ploy would be a dangerous one...but not in the sense that they themselves had anything to worry about. The Ahmazos man was locked up. He could do them no physical harm. No, it was the danger of time that was their enemy. The longer Jennifer was out there alone...the more chance there was...

_No_. He would not think that.

He gave his head a shake and continued his pacing. There was no doubt in his mind that with enough time, he could have the Ahmazos talking. But time was not their friend. Jennifer had already been gone three days. They needed answers, and they needed them quickly.

When Michael had taken Teyla, he'd fought to find her. But in the back of his mind, he'd taken refuge in the fact that Teyla was a warrior; a woman who would look for escape in every opening. Every advantage. Jennifer wasn't trained to see the dangers in every situation. She wouldn't calculate escape. She wouldn't see the chances provided to her by a change in guard, by encroaching darkness, by violent weather.

Jennifer would only see captivity.

She was strong of heart. Of that he had no doubt. But courage to outlast would not help her in a physical situation. Ronon could only hope that her courage could hold long enough for him to find her. To bring her back home.

Back to him.

_To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world._

The saying was stuck in his head, bouncing back and forth around his worry for Jennifer. He'd had a world once. A world that had been centered around one person. The Wraith had stolen both his world, and the one. The loss had left him with an emptiness he couldn't replace. Didn't want to replace. It fuelled him. Fed him. Kept him running. Kept him alive.

But all that changed the moment Beckett had freed him. Removed the tracker. Given him back his life. He'd taken the gift of a second chance and hadn't looked back. The road to his new home hadn't been easy. The journey was not smooth. But he'd arrived to find himself in a new world. With a new home. A new family of friends.

And her.

The quiet young woman with the light of innocence still shining in her eyes. When they'd first met he'd thought same as everyone else; that she shouldn't be here. That she was too weak to survive in such a dangerous place. Only Carson and Elizabeth had seen through Jennifer's hesitant smile and soft voice to the fighter locked inside. They alone believed.

But she'd fooled him. She'd fooled them all.

She belonged here. A part of this world. His world.

He would get her back.

Movement at the back of the gateroom caught his attention. Teyla had returned.

In her short absence she had partially changed her uniform, settling on a combination of Earth and Pegasus. On the bottom she still wore her BDU's and sidearm, but her vest and shirt had been replaced with a short, tightly fitted top that left both her arms and her midsection bare.

Ronon nodded his approval to Teyla. She'd done well to bridge the gap between how the Ahmazos tribes would dress, and the Earth military uniforms. The Ahmazos tribes didn't hold to one particular style of dress, but they did demand conformity within each Royal house. If Teyla were to represent the 'Lantians as Ahmazos, she would need to match their attire to some extent, yet be different enough that she could stand out.

Behind her, Laura Cadman followed. The Lieutenant was dressed in a similar fashion, however Laura's bare arms were covered with an intricate design of circles and loops done in black ink.

"Nice tat's, Lieutenant," John commented upon seeing Cadman's markings.

"Glad you like them, Sir," she answered, turning her arm and looking down at the black loops and spirals that ran down from her shoulders to her wrists. She glanced at Lorne. "It's permanent marker so it's gonna be there for a while."

"We did not have time to think of any other way," Telya explained, turning to John.

"If it gets Dr. Keller back," John began, then let the rest of the statement drop. "You mentioned the Ahmazos men have tattoos? Is this something we should be worried about?"

Teyla shook her head. "They are normally on the upper arms, shoulders, and back. Your uniforms are covering enough." She glanced at the others who were standing behind John. "Ronon has explained how this must work?"

Evan stepped forward. "We need to stay behind both of you all all times like a group of meek choir boys, yet still look pissed off and imposing. I think we've got it covered."

"Laura will be my...second in command," Teyla added, nodding at Laura. "She is the only person allowed to voice her concern for Dr Keller. And the only person allowed to move about freely in front of the prisoner. No matter what happens, you must remain behind us, and you must not speak or act unless I have ordered it. This is very important."

"Roger that," Evan nodded. He looked up to the control room on the second floor and tipped his index finger in the air.

As the gate began the dialing sequence, Woolsey, Ladon and Daro descended the stairs from Richard's office and joined them.

"Well done, Teyla," Ladon nodded approvingly.

"I only hope it works," she replied.

"It will work," Ronon answered.

_It has to._

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	6. Chapter 6

Her day ended as it had begun, locked once again in the small bedroom.

To weary to bother changing out of her clothes, she sat on the edge of the narrow bed and placed her hand on her stomach. Her abdomen ached from her solitary diet of soup. Although, she had to admit that despite its horrid taste, her headache was finally gone. One bonus.

Now if she could just get through the dizzy spells to go away.

At least she'd made a connection between the attacks and the random flicker of memories. Memories, or flashes of memories. Images that made no sense. The more she tried to collect them-keep them-the worse the dizziness. She'd eventually had to give up trying to hold onto the mental pictures for fear that she'd be made to eat any more soup.

If she never saw another bowl of the horrible slop it would be too soon.

She flopped back onto the narrow bed and looked up at her only light source, the narrow window high above. Through the glass a sliver of moon floated amongst a sea of sparkling stars, teasing her with tales of places far away. She lifted her hand and traced the outline of the hooked moon through the air with her index finger. After a moment she let her arm drop back down. A small, hard lump pressed beneath her thumb as she placed her hand on her hip. Digging into her pocket, she removed a crumpled scrap of paper. Unfolding it, she stared at the outlines of the sketches she'd traced during her morning in the store. Holding it up, the light of the moon above shone through the thin paper, highlighting the repeated image; the pointed peak and the small circle floating above it. She'd drawn it over and over. Multiple copies of the same shape. Different sizes, different line thickness, but the same unusual shape.

It gave her a sense of calm to see it, yet she couldn't understand why. What did it mean? Why was it so important that despite all that she'd forgotten, this image refused to leave her alone?

Her throat tightened and she blinked away the surging dispair at her missing memories. It would do her no good to cry.

She crumpled the page and stuffed it back into her pocket.

With a weary sigh, she closed her eyes, letting the light of the silver moon lull her into the dreams.

_The circle of blue was so beautiful... It looked like a curtain of sun kissed water; suspended in the center of the decorated sphere. A group of people stood in front of the water. Smiling. Beckoning her. Calling her name. She walked towards them... but no matter how far she travelled, they remained the same distance away. She walked faster. Jogged. Then ran. The harder she fought to reach them, the harder she tried to hear them. At first the name was a whisper... a soft word carried away by the wind. Then it grew louder. Forceful. It carried an urgency that made her heart speed up. She ran._

She opened her mouth to answer-to call out to them-but a hand pressed over her mouth kept her from getting the words out.

It took but a moment for her to realize the words were truly trapped because there really was a hand covering her mouth.

Panic screamed through her limbs as she fought the shadow form, but it was like wrestling with a statue.

"Stop." The command came in a harsh whisper, blown warm against her ear. "I will not hurt you. You have my word."

She froze. The deep voice was not one she recognized. With the beat of her heart warring in her ears, she squeezed her eyes closed, praying it was only a dream. But when she blinked her eyes open, she was still in darkness and the hand was still clamped tightly over her mouth.

"I will remove my hand," he said firmly. "And you will not scream."

Knowing she had little choice but to do as he said, she bobbed her head. She would not scream.

_Yet._

"Good," he whispered, lessening the pressure of his hand until it was gone completely. He leaned back and stood to his full height next to the bed.

The moment he was away from the bed, she pushed herself upright and scurried back against the headboard. With the distance she could see him now. A giant of a man dressed black leather.

_The Traveller._

His presence overpowered the tiny space of her small room. She knew she should scream-call for help-yet at the same time, she felt a strange sense of security at his presence. It wrapped itself around her and calmed her fear.

"Say something," he ordered.

She wasn't sure what she expected him to say-this strange man standing in her bedroom-but a demand for her to speak was not the first thing she would have considered.

"What...what do you want?" she whispered.

He dropped his chin and stared down at her. "It is you."

"I..." she blinked. "Yes? It is?"

He frowned, and leaned closer. "You don't remember me."

She took a deep breath. "You were in the store today," she acknowledged.

"Before that."

She took a moment to study him in the faint light of the moon above. He was dressed the same as he had been in the store. Black leather. Weapons. She remembered him from earlier in the day, but beyond that, there was nothing. "No," she answered honestly. "I don't remember you. Should...should I?"

He nodded. "You should."

"I'm sorry." The apology escaped before she could question why she felt the need to say it to him.

He shifted his weight, lowering his large frame until he was squatting next to the narrow bed. She held her breath as he reached towards her forehead. He pushed her bangs aside with his index finger.

"Who hit you?" he asked, his tone clipped.

She flinched when his finger prodded the bruise at her temple. "I fell."

He lowered his hand, but remained crouched next to the bed. His eyes narrowed. "Do you remember falling?"

She shook her head. "It was in the forest," she repeated what she'd been told. "I hit my head on a rock."

The directness of his gaze pinned her. "How long have you been here?"

"My whole life?" she ventured.

He snorted. "How long have you been here that you can remember..."

"Two days."

"Good."

"Good?" she frowned. _Why was that good?_

"What do you remember before that?" He continued his rapid fire questions. "Do you remember anything of Atlantis?"

"Atlantis?" she repeated. "Who's Atlantis?"

"Not who. What. Atlantis is your home."

"My home?" She shook her head, her eyes taking in the tiny room before slipping back to the man before her. "This is my home."

"This is not your home," he scowled. "No more than it is mine."

"I don't understand..."

"The pictures you drew this morning," he prompted. "Do you remember them?"

Her hand automatically hovered over the small pocket at her waist. She hesitated only a moment before reaching into the pocket and withdrawing the crumpled piece of paper. She straightened it, pulling it taut between her fingers.

He leaned forward and pointed to one of the larger copies of the pointed shape with its floating circle. "This symbol is from the Ring of the Ancestors. What your people call a Star Gate."

"A Star Gate," she repeated as she stared at the repeated image drawn by her own hand. Star Gate. It sounded pretty. Magical.

"It's used to travel between worlds."

Her eyes immediately drifted to the window above her head. Travelling between worlds? Worlds? As in planets? Her heart quickened. Stars and moons. Hundreds. No, thousands. Millions. And a gate. A gate to the stars. She turned her attention to the designs she held in her hand. A star gate. It was majic. She'd known about it? But how? With all the people she'd met today, not one had mentioned anything about travelling through the stars.

Although maybe they had and she'd simply forgotten about it along with everything else.

His deep voice brought her back to her present situation. "Do you remember your name?" he asked.

At this question she balked, her tongue unable to form around the name they called her.

"Your name?" he repeated.

"I...it's...Cala..." She cleared her throat and tried again. "Calara."

"No."

No? What did he mean, no? No, that was not her name? Or no, she'd said it wrong? Calara. Yes, that was definitely the name they'd called her. Tomas. Maron. Her father. Everyone she'd met. Her name was Calara, and this was her home. So why was the is man, this stranger, so intent on telling her differently?

"Who...who are you?" she finally thought to ask.

He shushed her and straightened to his full height. "Someone is coming."

She snapped her mouth closed, straining to hear over the sound of her own breathing. His tension translated straight through to her spine and she shivered. Outside in the hallway, a floorboard creaked.

"If you want to know the truth, you will tell them nothing," he whispered, wrapping her fingers around the paper she still clutched until it was well hidden within in her fist. He stepped away from the bed. "These people are not your people. Do not trust them."

She scrambled to her feet. "But-"

"Do not eat or drink anything they give you."

"But I-"

"I will be back."

"Wait!" she hissed, but with a touch to the band across his forearm, he was gone.

_He'd completely disappeared._

Shocked, she spun in a circle, frantically grasping to understand that he'd truly vanished right before her eyes. A metallic snap in the lock turned her towards the door as it swung inward. She gasped aloud to realize the Traveller hadn't come in through the door. It had been locked from the outside.

"What are you doing?" The old woman stepped into the room. The flickering light of the lantern she held made her scowl seem dark and dangerous. "Who are you talking to?"

"I..." she stared at the empty space where the traveller had just stood. _Tell them nothing._ His whispered command echoed through her mind, and she obeyed. "I was just...talking to myself," she lied. "I am sorry if I disturbed you."

The old woman lifted the lantern higher and glanced around the small room. Her arm shot out, jabbing a cup forward. "Drink this."

The scent of the evil soup reached her nostrils and she shuddered, remembering the Traveller's order not to eat or drink anything Thea gave her.

The old woman stepped closer, the lantern hovering beside her face. "Drink," she commanded, jabbing the cup even closer.

She had no doubt that Thea wouldn't stop at force feeding her if she didn't drink it. She took the stoneware glass, lifted it to her mouth and gulped down the tepid liquid.

The old woman snatched the empty cup away and stomped into the hallway. "Get to bed," she ordered. "You have much work to do tomorrow."

The door closed with a definitive bang and was instantly locked.

Muffled voices from hallway caught her attention. Suddenly worried Thea had just encountered her Traveller, she rushed to the door, straining to hear. She pressed her ear to the door, but the deeper voice on the other side was not the low, gravelly baritone of the Traveller.

It was Tomas who Thea was talking to.

Curious to know if they were talking about the Traveller, she dropped to her knees and lay her ear against the keyhole.

"...the dizzy spells," Tomas was saying.

"We cannot give her any more of the soup," Thea answered. "One pot a day is all. Any more and the root will cause too much damage."

"But-"

"You accepted her because she is intelligent," Thea said. "Unless you want to marry a simpering fool, you will do as I tell you. Now stop worrying and go to bed."

"Yes, Thea," Tomas replied, sounding chastised. "Good night."

The sound of a door closing accompanied a set of retreating footsteps until there was nothing left to hear but silence.

_Marry?_ Thea's word sent her heart racing. Dear God... she was Maron's wife? She backed away from the door, her retreat stopping only once her knees connected against the back of the bed. Her mind repeated the old woman's words. _Want_ to marry. _Want to_. Relief sagged her spine and she sank onto the mattress. She couldn't possibly marry someone she didn't remember. Satisfied with the knowledge that she wasn't some strange man's wife, her heartbeat returned to a less painful rhythm.

A large yawn distracted her and she realized she was still sitting on the edge of her bed, fully clothed, yet all around her the house had fallen into complete silence. Somehow everyone had gone to bed and she'd missed it? She yawned again. _Goodness_. She needed to get some sleep. She stumbled through changing into her nightgown and crawled into bed. Through the glass window high above, the moon and stars taunted her. She couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to question their presence.

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey all! Sorry for the random delay here - the plot bunnies decided Laura was going to get to be a real badass here so I had to tame them down a bit or it was going to be a lot worse... :) ~Nika**

* * *

><p>As the group followed Ladon through the trees towards a remote Genii encampment, Laura dropped back to fall into step next to Evan.<p>

"Hey," the Major greeted softly.

"Hey," she repeated, drawing a calming strength from his presence. She hated feeling this off-kilter. She thought she was used to the stress and adrenaline of life in Pegasus, but this situation was yanking her emotions in too many directions.

"You okay?" he asked.

Laura wasn't sure how to answer. Was she okay? No, and she wouldn't be until they had Jen back. Was she going to get Jen back? Oh yes. If it took her last breath.

She'd cycled through so many emotions since her best friend had been taken, but with Ladon's assurance that the man they held did indeed know something, the fear and worry had been pushed aside to make room for cold hard anger.

"If this guy knows where Jen is," she whispered, "then God help him. Because I won't."

"Easy, Red," Evan cautioned. "He's no good to us if you kill him before the first question."

Laura snorted. "Oh I won't let him off that easy."

"Just be careful," he added.

Laura glanced sideways at the Major, not missing the worry in his eyes.

"I'm always careful," she answered.

Evan flashed her a grin. "Careful is never a word I would associate with you."

"No?" She smiled, jumping into the lighthearted conversation he offered, letting it wash over her shattered nerves like a healing balm. She knew he was doing it on purpose, and almost hugged him for it. "What would you associate with me? Sexy? Gorgeous? Hot?"

Evan laughed. "All of the above. Plus dangerous, impulsive, uncontrollable, overbearing, rude-"

"Why Major, you sure know how to sweet talk a girl." She bumped him with her shoulder.

"Careful," he cautioned with a smirk. "We wouldn't want to wipe off your tattoos."

"Yeah," she grinned, looking down at her marked arms. "I kind of like them. Makes me look dangerous."

"You don't need tats to make you look dangerous, Red."

"And that," Laura whispered, "is exactly why I love you."

"And here I thought you were just after my body."

"That too," she winked.

Up ahead, the forward group exited the forest trail and moved out into an open field. Laura and Evan followed the others as they crossed the open space towards a large brick building set against the trees on the far side. Tension lifted iteself out of her abdomen and settled between her shoulderblades. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, giving the anxiety time to settle itself out. Teyla said she needed the worry for Jen's safety to show, but she had to make sure it didn't rule her mind.

As they neared the building, the group stopped. Ladon stepped forward to great the guards, then turned back to wait for the group to gather around.

Laura shot a quick look to Evan, who nodded his reassurance. "Go get em," he commanded softly.

Taking a deep breath, Laura walked forward to stand next to Teyla.

Ladon addressed John. "I will need a moment to get him out of the cell and into the holding area. I will send Daro out as soon as we're ready." He turned to Teyla. "Are you ready?"

"I am," the Athosian answered firmly.

Ladon nodded. "Good." Then turned and walked the final feet to the doors of building, with Daro at his heels.

The guards held the door open, then returned to their position on either side of the entrance.

Teyla looked to the gathered group. "Remember what we have discussed," she instructed them. "If this is to work, you may not speak. Only Laura or I are allowed to address this man."

"What about Ronon," John asked. "Shouldn't he be wearing BDU's like the rest of us?"

Teyla glanced at the Satedan, then shook her head. "No, in this case Ronon's attire will be fine if he remains closer to Ladon than our group." Then she turned to Laura. "Remember what we discussed," she said quietly. "He may see your emotion, but show him no weakness."

Laura welcomed the spike of adrenaline that coursed through her at Teyla's words. "He won't know what hit him," she answered firmly.

Teyla smiled. "No, I don't believe he will."

The door opened behind them. Everyone turned as Daro leaned out. "We're ready," the young Genii whispered.

"Showtime," Laura answered, falling into step behind Teyla.

Once inside, Daro stepped to the side and pointed to an open doorway at the end of the long corridor. "In there," he instructed. "The prisoner is restrained at the back of the room. Ladon is waiting for you."

Laura glanced at the others, watching each take position a few feet behind both herself and Teyla. She would have laughed at the situation of having superior officers standing behind her if it weren't so serious. With a nod to Teyla, she stepped foward, keeping her pace only slightly behind the Athosian. The heavy footfalls of the others echoed off the stone walls.

They reached the open doorway and entered without stopping. The room was large and windowless, holding nothing except for a man with his hands and feet bound to a chair in the far corner, and Ladon, who stood off to the side.

The man in the chair was old for pegasus standards, mid-thirties if Laura had to guess. She was surprised by his body shape. At Teyla's description of the men being slaves, she'd expected him to be dirty and malnourished, but he was anything but. No this man was hard and angled, with the muscled body of a fighter. His clothes were reasonably clean and well taylored. He stared at them with a hard expression. Despite being tied to the chair, his posture oozed confidence.

Laura almost smiled.

Breaking him into pieces was going to be fun.

Teyla had been very distinct in her instructions while she drew the Ahmazos designs down Laura's arms. Laura was to act as Teyla's second in command, taking orders only from Teyla. But Teyla had been very specific in what, exactly those orders would be. But it had been Teyla's final description that told Laura exactly how she was to handle herself.

Laura was to be as diplomatic as Ronon would be in getting Jennifer back.

With Teyla's words running through her mind, Laura marched directly up to the man in the chair and kicked him square in the chest.

Satisfaction tightened her heart as the man gasped in pain and surprise before smashing backwards onto the floor, chair and all.

"Pick him up," Teyla ordered, glancing over her shoulder at Ronon, her voice commanding.

Laura stared at the man on the floor as Ronon walked forward to flip the prisoner upright. Ronon then stepped back and joined Ladon against the back wall.

The prisoner hunched over in the chair, coughing. After a deep breath he straightened, his eyes drilling directly into Laura. Wariness warred with anger as he fought to regain his composure.

"I am not pleased," Teyla announced, stepping up to the man in the chair. She walked slowly around the back of the chair. "And when I am not pleased..." she completed her circle walk and stopped beside Laura, "people die."

The prisoner snorted.

Laura jumped forward, smashing her knuckles into the man's face. She felt the satisfying snap and crumble of his nose as the cartilidge gave way beneath the force of her fist. The prisoner's head snapped to the side and he sagged in the chair. He leaned further over the side and spat blood onto the floor. He straightend slowly, eyeing Laura warily before turning his attention to Teyla.

"Who the hell are you," he snarled.

Laura's foot caught him in the chest again, sending the man crashing violently to the floor. "You were not told to speak," she hissed.

Teyla waved her hand at Ronon and Ladon. "Pick him up."

Once the chair was upright, Teyla leaned down and tapped the man across his broken nose with her index finger. The man grunted in pain. "You have taken something that belongs to me," she said with a cold smile.

"I-" the man began, but his words were cut off with a yowl when Laura grabbed his nose and squeezed.

"He forgot again," Laura said, looking up at Teyla.

"He has been gone from home too long," Teyla shook her head with mock sadness.

"Perhaps we should give him a moment to remember where he came from?" Laura asked.

"Perhaps," Teyla looked as though she were considering the question, then shook her head.

Laura let go of the man's nose, but not without adding a painful twist. The man howled and bounced against his restraints. His glare was deadly as he stared up at Laura, but she could also see a slight hesitation. He glanced at something behind Laura, but she didn't give in to the urge to look. Hopefully he was connecting the dots between the armed men behind them, and Teyla's hints about the man's heritage.

The prisoner breathed sharply through his mouth, licking the blood as it dripped down. He turned his head and spat another mouthful of blood onto the floor. Laura was mildy disappointed he chose the side away from Teyla.

"Now," Teyla said, staring at the man in the chair. "You have taken something that is very important to me... and I want it back."

The man's mouth twitched, but this time he caught himself before he said anything.

"Speak," Teyla commanded forcefully.

The man closed his mouth in definance, but realized his folly when he couldn't breathe. Glaring at Teyla, he opened his mouth again, but said nothing.

Laura connected her fist with the side of the man's jaw. She ignored the stinging pain across her knuckles as she split the skin open, she slugged him again. Blood dripped down her knuckles and onto the foor.

The man's head wobbled as he tried to shake off the bell ringer she'd just delivered.

"I have taken nothing," the man wheezed as blood dripped down his chin from his split lips.

Laura punched him again.

Teyla waited for the man to straighten himself up before speaking. "Three nights ago you were one of several who kidnapped one of my sisters from Laurentia."

At the mention of Laurentia, the man blinked.

_He did know! _ Laura's insides screamed with the victory. _We've got you now, you lying bastard! _Keeping her expression neutral, she slipped a glance at Teyla, who was watching the man with interest.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man ventured, his eyes shifting from one woman to the other.

"Blonde hair," Teyla began. "Young. Pretty. Dressed as we are. She was there at the request of the old woman you are working for. We know this is not the first time you have stolen something that didn't belong to you. The old woman likes to pick and choose, doesn't she? And trade festivals...they offer a nice cover for watching without being seen."

"I don't know what you are taking about," the man repeated.

Teyla straightened. "Where did you take her?"

"I didn't touch her," he stubbornly insisted.

After a few moments of the round about questioning, which left them with nothing other than his stubborn refusals, Laura turned to Teyla. "I need a pitcher of water," she stated.

Without flinching or questioning the request, Teyla stared past the prisoner to where Ladon was standing. "Fetch me a pitcher of water."

"Make sure it's full," Laura added, smirking at the confusion flashing across the prisoner's face.

Ladon stepped forward and pointed towards the back door. Laura heard footsteps retreating down the hallway, but refused to take her eyes of the man in the chair. A few moments later Daro appeared at her side and held out a large, earthenware spouted jug overflowing with water. The moment Laura took the jug, the young man scurried to the back of the room. Laura turned towards Ronon, who was standing like an angry gargoyle in the shadows of the corner.

She tipped her chin towards the man in the chair. "Hold his head back."

Ronon stepped foward and grabbed a handful of the man's hair. He yanked, hard. The prisoner twisted in the chair, but Ronon clamped his free hand down across the man's throat.

"Open his mouth," Laura ordered, stepping closer.

Ronon immediately complied, squeezing the man's cheeks and jaw until his mouth puckered open.

"You look thirsty," Laura smirked, holding the pitcher above the man's upturned face. "Who am I to prevent a dying man from his last drink?"

Mumbling curses, the man bobbled back and forth in the chair, but Ronon held firm.

Laura began pouring the water into the man's open mouth. It burbled and splattered, filling his mouth and sending streams of the liquid down his front and onto the floor. The chair rattled as the man fought to hold his breath, unable to breathe out of his broken nose, and unable to get air past the stream of water.

After dumping half the pitcher, she straightened and nodded to Ronon, who released his hold.

The prisoner flipped his head forward, coughing and spitting water.

"Where is she," Teyla demanded.

"I don't know," he coughed, shaking his head back and forth. "I didn't do anything."

"Again," Laura turned to Ronon.

"No, wait!" the prisoner called out, but Laura refused to delay. This piece of garbage had taken Jennifer, and she wasn't going to stop until he was completely broken. She repeated the earlier procedure, stopping only because there was no more water.

Ronon released him and took a single step back.

The prisoner coughed up more water, spitting and wheezing as he sucked in air. This time, when he looked up, his eyes reflected worry, yet he was not far enough gone that he was going to give up.

Laura lifted her leg and the man jerked back. She slowly lowered her foot until it was pressed directly on top of his crotch, then leaned forward, pressing her weight down. He shifted with the pain and pressure, his breath coming in short gasps.

She reached into her boot and withdrew her knife, twisting it in the air in front of the man's face while she continued to lean her weight against her raised leg. "Where...is...she?"

"I...wasn't...there..." he gasped, hunching over.

"You were," she answered, scratching the blade across the man's cheek. Scraping, but not cutting. She sensed his indecision, his confusion as he struggled to keep his composure. "We know you were in the tavern. We know you drank. And we know you drank too much. You were quite happy to let everyone know how much you'd gotten paid to help an old woman and her people take a pretty girl through the forest to the gate." She shook her head slowly, and trailed the tip of her knife beneath the man's bottom lip. "You chatter like an old crone when you're drunk." She purposely stared at his mouth. "Perhaps I should help you with that little problem, hmmm? Remove your tongue? Then you can drink all you want..."

The man's eyes opened wide in fear and uncertainty. His bravado was failing, sliding away as easily as the blood dripped from his face. His hands were now squeezing the ends of the chair, and he was sub-consciously pushing himself back against the chair, trying to create distance between them. His attention jerked from Laura, to the Lantian's behind her, to Teyla, and back again. Laura knew the moment he'd made the decision-he would no longer look her directly in the eye.

He may have excaped his own planet, but he couldn't escape his beliefs.

"Where did you take her?" Laura asked, her voice sickly sweet, firm with the knowledge she was mere moments away from pulling him completely apart.

He sucked in a breath. "I didn't take her anywhere," he insisted, his voice wavering, unsteady. "I don't know...don't...don't know what you are talking about."

She leaned back with an aching slowness, letting the man slump slightly into his now-free personal space. Once he was straight in the chair, she snapped her hand up and stabbed her knife down through the back of his hand, which was strangling the edge of the armwrest. The blade sliced through his flesh and embedded itself into wooden arm of the chair underneath.

The man's screams would have cracked the plaster if there had been any.

"Oopsie," she blinked. "My bad." That isn't your knife hand." She withdrew the blade with a wiggle and twist. She leaned to the side, dangling it in the air over his non injured hand. "This one is."

She jerked her arm higher.

The man's scream paused the knife's descent.

"Denali!" he screeched. "Denali, all right? The old woman took her to Denali!"

.


	8. Chapter 8

Kiryk stood in the darkness on the edge of the forest, watching the still sleeping town with a new-found wariness.

He'd memorized the positions of the guards and their single shot rifles when he'd arrived on the planet early yesterday. Their presence didn't surprise him. The village was a good distance from the ring of the Ancestors, so watchfulness was wise.

But now, as he studied the buildings, the layout, and the circular paths of the pair of patrolling guards, he revised his initial assessment that the armed men were there to protect the village.

They weren't watching the surrounding forest for anyone aproaching.

They were watching the village for anyone leaving.

And he had a very good idea just who it was they were trying to keep inside.

The 'Lantean Doctor.

Not much surprised him about life any more. But seeing the blonde standing behind the counter of the supply store had definitely thrown him.

In the fraction of time it took him to analyze the interior of the storefront and note that none of her people were there with her, he'd all but convinced himself that it couldn't possibly be her.

Almost.

Months ago he'd spent hours with her in direct contact. Studied her. Watched her. Her manerisms, movements and speech would be forever locked into his memory. What he knew to be true was that Doctor Jennifer Keller could not hide her emotions. Her thoughts and feelings shone in her eyes. There was no way she could hide her memory of him - yet there was no mistaking the fact that when he stepped into the store, she showed no hint that she had ever seen him before. There was interest, yes. But not recognition.

It was at that point he'd decided that despite the matching face this couldn't be the woman who'd saved his life...until he'd seen the drawings she was absently sketching on the small piece of paper...the gate symbol she'd hidden with a flash of embarassment and fear.

The fear bit at him. He hadn't expected her to be afraid of him. Not after what they'd been through together. But then her eyes betrayed her. It was the heavy set man who'd entered the store from the back that she shrank away from.

Kiryk had almost shot the two men on the spot.

And then he'd smelled the soup.

The sharp scent of the regnig root they'd cooked into the broth had been so strong, it stung his nostrils.

Sticking a tiny sliver of the meat of the root under your tongue for a few seconds was a wonderous cure for a headache. But too much too often left the user afflicted with a driving addiction; unable to kill the headache without the root, and unable to stop taking the root for fear of the horrible headache the addiction brought on. In high volumes, like the mass amounts that had been in the Doctor's soup, the regnig root would destroy the mind, starting with memories, and eventually leaving only a living, breathing shell, free to form into any personality.

Healers used it to wipe the memories of Wraith and war and death from those too mentally wounded to move on. Slavers used it to wipe the minds of their slaves. And criminals used it to wipe clean any witnesses and victims.

Kiryk didn't know what this peaceful looking village was hiding, but using the root on a woman who had no business being here was not something he was going to walk away from. Yet getting into combat without understanding the sitation was a dangerous task. Without knowing her own history, she could very easily turn on him, or worse, end up injured or killed.

The Doctor had saved both his life, and Celise's, without care to her own. Her people had accepted him instantly when they could very well have killed him for kidnapping her. She knew being a runner would put her directly in line with the Wraith, yet she'd taken the time to help him destroy the tracking device. It was too much for him to put aside. He would help her, whether she knew she needed his assistance or not.

He'd waited until darkness had settled and the town was asleep before he'd gone to see her. To confirm his suspicions. To find out how far gone she really was. Thankfully the young doctor could at least remember it had only been a few days since she'd been eating the soup. The fact that he hadn't encountered word of the Lantian soldiers seeking their missing doctor also confirmed that she hadn't been gone long enough to be under the full effect of the drug. Talk of her disappearance had not yet reached the tavern regulars or town gossips.

So whatever their plan was, it was still fresh enough that the locals didn't have her under their full control. The Doctor was not so far gone that she couldn't be brought back.

But he would have to work quickly, starting with getting her away from the village.

Ideally he should return her to her people. Their medical knowledge would far surpass his own, but making it to the gate before dawn was out of the question. The distance was too far and without more of the bark, the headache would incapacitate her within a few hours. No, the only option would be to take her someplace quiet and distant to ride out the pains as the drug cleared her system. Then he could help her find her way home.

Under the blanket of the night, he'd scouted the deep forest, finding a long ridge of caves north of the village. The deepest cavern was far from ideal. It was dark and damp, but deep enough under the rocky hillside to muffle any sounds. He had few supplies, but he would make it work. The cave was farther away from the Ring of the Ancestors than he liked, but it was also in the opposite direction they guards would be searching once they found her gone.

Hopefully it would buy him the time she needed.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

She knew someone was trying to wake her, but she fought to remain warm in her dreams about the sparkling city towers. She mumbled a command for the person to leave her be, but her words were ignored. It wasn't until the annoying person was tugging at the bedding did she open her eyes.

In the faint light of the coming dawn, the hard, bulked shape of the traveller was outlined above her. Strangely, she wasn't afraid...or surprised to see him. It was almost as though she expected him to be in her room in the middle of the night, but she couldn't remember why.

She opened her mouth to question him about it but before the words could escape, he leaned forward and hooked his arms under her knees and shoulder and lifted her into the air-blankets and all. The move was so quick she had no time to register what he'd done until he'd wrapped his arms tightly around her and crushed her against him.

Fearing the sudden motion and the height, she threw her arms around his neck.

"Hush," he ordered, shifting her higher in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"It's time to go."

"Go where?"

"Hold on," he commanded, and her vision filled with a flash of green light.

A wave of dizzyiness washed over her, turning her stomach and leaving her gasping for air. She felt as though she were splitting apart. Everything she saw around her flickered in and out of the green light-images that were lifelike and real, but not a single one belonged inside her tiny room. The outside of a wall. A narrow alley. A cluster of buildings. A village from a distance. Trees. Through each passing flash, he held her tightly against him, and moved as though walking, yet the distance travelled should not have been possible in a single step.

When the movement and momentum finally stopped, she peeked over his shoulder, shocked to realize she was no longer locked in her bedroom. Instead of four bare walls she was surrounded in the deep shadows of a massive forest. And even if her eyes were betryaing her, her nose was not. Gone was the musty sent of dust and still air. In it's place was a heavy scent of pine and moss carried on the cold breeze that chilled her skin and pushed her hair around her face.

Her mind struggled to grasp what had just happened.

She looked up into the blurring face of the man who carried her...and fainted.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Laura walked across the floor of the gate room towards the large group gathered in front of the stargate.

Evan turned at her approach and stepped forward, stopping her before she reached the others. "You cleared?" he asked with a half frown, staring down at her hand.

Laura almost laughed. There was no way Marie or Carson would have been able to keep her from joining the rescue team short of freezing her in a staisis chamber. The look on Evan's face said he knew she wouldn't have let Carson give her any other status other than good-to-go, but he'd asked anyway.

She lifted her arm and glanced at the narrow strip of gauze taped across the back of her right hand. "Marie was just worried I'd get the stitches dirty," she replied.

Evan reached for her hand, examining it closely before releasing it. "That was quite a job you pulled back there," he comented quietly.

Laura shrugged. She knew it was a conversation they would need to have later, but for now she needed to reassure him she wasn't running off with no control over her emotions.

"Teyla couldn't have taken the lead," she explained. "Although she wanted to."

Evan raised an eyebrow.

Laura continued. "We didn't have time for Teyla to give me the full history on the cultural intricacies, but she did have time to tell me just how far I needed to go if I wanted to get his attention."

Evan scowled and glanced down at her hand again. "Yea, well, I think you got his attention."

"You know as well as I do, you would have done the same thing," she pointed out. "Or more."

Evan's jaw clenched, but he didn't question her further. Laura knew the conversation wasn't over, but for now he would consider it on hold. He shook his head dismissively. "Come on," he sighed. "We have a certain bad-luck blonde to go rescue."

"Hell ya," she nodded, and followed him to where both SGA1 and 2 were gathered, waiting.

Colonel Sheppard called up to Chuck to dial the gate.

"According to the Genii, the gate on the Denali side is heavily forested," Sheppard addressed the others as the dailing sequence initiated, "so we'll be covering the distance to the village on foot."

"Anything special in the database about Denali we should know about?" Evan asked, glancing past Sheppard's shoulder to Rodney.

The scientist shook his head. "MX3-995," Rodney stated. "Standard habitable planetary rotation around a singular sun. No mention of the people other than a note about a basic farming culture. But that information isn't exactly up to date..."

"Assume we'll be facing resistance," John interjected. He strode towards the stabalized wormhole, with Ronon a half-step ahead. The Satedan already had his blaster in hand.

"Keep your head up," John commanded, lifting his P90, "and watch your six."

.


	9. Chapter 9

The forest on Denali was thick and overgrown. Heavy branches held up webs of vines that spidered down around them to the forest floor. The darkness was heavy under the trees, but the sky above was lighter than the shadows. Night was still in their favour, but not for long.

Blaster raised, Ronon strode forward, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees in the dull light from the stargate. He completed a full circle, satisfied there was no immediate threat.

The event horizon disappeared, plunging the group into the darkness.

Sheppard stepped forward. "Sanchez. Browne," he ordered quietly. "Keep an eye on the gate. We need to know who's coming or going." As the two men retreated into the trees, the Colonel turned to McKay. "Anything?"

"No." Rodney looked up from the Ancient scanner in his hands. "I'm not getting anything."

Fighting off the first thought that launched itself into his head, Ronon demanded clarification. "No transmitter?"

McKay shook his head. "No, I mean I'm not getting anything." He shook his head and held the scanner up above his head, then turned around in a complete circle. "Something in the local geology must be emitting some kind of interference."

"_Some kind_ of interference?" Sheppard repeated.

Rodney dropped the scanner back into the pocket of his vest. "Yes. Interference. The local topography is highly..."

"McKay," John warned.

Rodney sighed. "We're surrounded by an escarpment. The village is up there." He pointed to a spot over Sheppard's shoulder. "We're down here. I could waste time trying to figure out what's causing it, or you can get me up there where I can try again."

"Right," John nodded. He turned to the others. "You heard the man. Let's move."

.

* * *

><p><em>.<br>_

_"Jennifer..."_

The voice wiggled through her mind, pulling her back into consciousness. Her body bounced along with a strange rocking motion. She tried to straighten but her limbs were heavy. She blinked her eyes open, and slowly focused on the stubbled side of a man's jaw.

A man who was currently carrying her through a heavy forest in the early light of dawn. The sky above was light now, pushing the shadows back. Birds carried on loudly overhead, diving and dipping through the branches.

She was really here. Outside. In the middle of a forest.

With a deep breath, her mind cleared and what little memories she had come flowing back. The past few days. The traveller. His words. She lifted her sluggish arms and hooked them around his neck, digging her fingers into the cold leather across his wide shoulders.

He'd come to take her home.

But wasn't this her home?

"Welcome back." The traveller glanced down at her, pinning her briefly with his clear blue eyes before he turned his attention back on where he was walking.

Feeling slightly guilty that she'd obviously fainted on him...she pushed down on his shoulders, willing him to put her down. It was like trying to push rock. "You can let me go..." she mumbled. "I...I can walk."

"How's your head?" he asked, not releasing her, and not stopping his forward progress through the trees.

She shook her head, feeling the tinges of the too-familiar headache pressing against her forehead. "I'm okay," she lied.

He snorted, but didn't comment further.

She tried to sit straighter, but it was almost impossible to move against his firm grip. "You... you can put me down," she hinted.

He ducked under a low hanging branch. She braced for him to set her down, but he straightened up on the other side, bringing her back up with him.

"You can't keep carrying me-"

"You can't walk," he interrupted.

"I can _too_ walk..."

He looked pointedly at her. "You have no shoes."

She tipped her chin and looked down at her bare feet dangling in the air. The cool air stung her skin as her mind made the connection to having no footwear, and the goosebumps traveling up her bare legs. After a moment she registered the fact that she was also feeling cold because she had nothing on but her nightgown... and the blanket from her bed he'd wrapped around her.

Heat climbed her cheeks, counteracting the shiver that ripped down her spine.

"You're safe with me," he said firmly, misinterpreting her shaking. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Safe?" She bit her bottom lip, and stared up at him. "I wasn't before?"

He shook his head. "No," he answered with a clipped tone, refusing to look at her. "You were not."

A dozen questions whirled around her mind, but she couldn't stop one long enough to put it into words. She tried to concentrate on what she knew, what she felt, but couldn't get past the gaping disconnect. She could picture the village, her small room, the store. Tomas. Maron. The old woman-Thea. Her father. But what she felt...was nothing. Well, nothing good any way. Thea frightened her, yes. As did Maron, but likely only because of his size. Or perhaps the gun he was never without. But aside from that, there was no sense other than a feeling of familiarity. A common recognition. But no real emotion.

Yet here, now, with this traveller she did feel safe.

The man had kidnapped her from her home, magically transferred them both from her locked room to the middle of the forest without getting caught. Heck, without even being seen. A feat in itself for such a large man.

She _should_ be afraid.

Terrified.

Yet she wasn't.

"Who are you?" she finally asked, her voice cracking.

"A friend," he answered.

"What's your name?"

"Kiryk."

"Kiryk," she repeated, liking the strength of the name. It suited him. She hesitated to ask her next question. Fear for what he would say caused her heart to beat faster. "What's... What's my name?" she ventured, her voice almost a whisper.

At this he stopped walking. She felt his arms twitch slightly as he tightened his hold on her. For a moment she was worried he wouldn't answer. That he would keep his secret.

"Jennifer," he answered, meeting her stare head on. "Your name is Jennifer."

"Jennifer..." she repeated, watching him carefully but seeing nothing but truth in his blue eyes.

He nodded. Once.

"Jennifer," she said again. She took a deep breath and let the name bounce around in her head. After a moment she gave up with a shrug. "It still sounds wrong. But I like it better than Calara."

He barked out a laugh, his smile shattering the tough aura. She couldn't stop herself from smiling back.

Then he masked his humor with the shake of his head. Straight faced once again he turned his attention to the trees around them. "Yes, Jennifer is a much better name."

"And you know me," she blinked. "Jennifer. Me. From before."

"Yes," was all he would say.

He turned abruptly towards the rock face and the heavy boulders that littered the base. He released her legs and lowered her slowly onto a large rock until she stood barefoot on the cold damp moss. She grabbed the blanket still wrapped around her and adjusted it, pulling it across her shoulders like a cloak.

With a fluid motion Kiryk hopped up onto the rock beside her. He picked her up before she could protest and lifted her onto the next rock up. She pinched the blanket closed with one hand, keeping her right free for balance. Kiryk quickly joined her then reached for her free hand, guiding her up over several more rocks, using the boulders like giant stairs.

They continued forward, walking and climbing, for several minutes. After helping her up onto one even taller than she was, he moved around to the side to find himself a foothold. Making use of the free moment, she tipped her head back and tried to see to the top of the jagged wall. The outcropping towered above them, jagged and craggy. The sunlight was hidden from them, trapped behind the rocks, leaving the air around them cool and damp, and deep with shadows. There was no clear path to the top, but she supposed even if there was, it was something she wouldn't recognize anyway. A fact she somehow knew even through the ache in her head.

Rubbing her forehead, she cursed her broken mind, and the exponentially increasing headache. Jennifer. Calara. A village for one, a single man for the other. She'd lost the comfort of her village for moss, rocks and trees and she had nothing to show for it except the blanket around her shoulders.

Not that she could do anything about it now. Even if she could remember.

She shook off the sadness at her lost memories before it could take hold, and turned her attention to the ground at her feet. To either side, large crevice and crags gaped between the large rocks. Some narrow, some so deep she couldn't see the bottom. She stared down past her bare toes into the light-less gap directly in front of her. Wide enough for a body to fall quite cleanly down... and wide enough for something to come back up. Her heart added a skip in beat as she thought about the kinds of creatures that could live in those dark shadows. Animals with big teeth and evil eyes. Animals that could eat a person whole.

She couldn't stop the screech from escaping when hands grabbed her waist. Jerking to the side, her feet slid on the moss and she tottered. With one arm still trapped in the blanket, she lost her balance and fell forward.

Kiryk grabbed her before she dropped off the rock into the dark crevice in front of her. He straightened her up, pulling her firmly against him. "It is good to see you haven't changed," he smirked, hooking his arms under her knees and scooping her up.

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling the fire burning in her cheeks. "I think." She hooked her arms around his shoulders and averted her face.

With a wide stride, he carried her over the crevice and onto the rock behind it. From there, he lifted her up onto an even higher rock, supporting her while she scrambled up onto the pointy surface.

The higher they climbed, the more prominent her headache became until she was holding one hand on the blanket, and the other on her forehead.

"Headache?" he asked as they reached another flat surface.

She rubbed her temples. "I never thought I'd say this, but I could really use some of Thea's soup right now."

"No," he said, releasing her onto a rock. "No more soup."

As her feet touched the ground, a wave of dizziness sliced through her and her knees buckled. She grabbed for Kiryk, closing her eyes against the nausea when he lifted her up.

"We're almost there," he said. "You can rest soon."

"Rest?" she mumbled. "You're the one doing all the work."

He carried her over another series of narrow crevices until they were rubbing the rocks along the base of a tall flat section of the rock face.

As they rounded a large, jagged rock shelf, she caught sight of a narrow opening behind it. As the angle changed, she noted the crevice was actually a very large opening, half hidden beside a large boulder.

"Here?" she questioned when he stopped in front of the dark hole.

"For now." He set her onto her feet and waited for her to find her footing. She slumped against the rocky wall, feeling the bite of the cold rocks through the blanket. Once she was sure she wasn't going to fall over, she nodded. "I'm okay. I just... I think I need to lay down for a minute."

"I'll be right back." He took a step towards the opening. "Stay here."

She almost asked him where he thought she was going to go, but he hunched his shoulders and ducked through the opening before she could say anything. She tipped her head back against the rock and closed her eyes against the pounding in her skull. The thumping pressure was keeping time with her heartbeat, every beat adding a hammering crack beneath her scalp. She tried to control her breathing, but the concentration only made her feel it more.

He returned within moments. In too much pain now to question him, she held out her hand and allowed him to guide her forward, under the arched rock and into the darkness beyond.

.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay, dear readers! I've been sucked into reading Game of Thrones and I just finished book 4. Sigh... :) I haven't beta'd this very much so please ignore the grammar boo boo's if there are any!**_

* * *

><p>.<p>

Reaching the crest of a steep incline, Ronon held his hand up, stopping the group following him. He squatted behind an overgrown piece of dead-fall and surveyed the land opening up before him. Down the hill behind him, the group held silent.

Dawn had come two hours before, spearing sunlight down through the trees and brightening the land around them. The light of morning had stolen their cover, but it had also opened up their vision. In front, the land sloped down into a shaded valley before rising to a taller, craggy hillside that was half rock, half scrub brush. The escarpment stretched out for miles in each direction, claiming the landscape like a large grey wall.

Repeated check-in's with Sanchez and Browne were proving more difficult the further they moved from the Stargate. The com's still worked, but they carried an usual echo, repeating each person's words several times before fading.

The lack of clear communication concerned them, but since the men reported no change in activity at the gate-no visitors incoming or outgoing-they'd continued pushing forward towards the village.

Towards Jennifer.

Sheppard dropped down beside him.

Ronon pointed to a pair of shadow shapes cresting the top of a ridgeline on the far side of the valley.

Lorne lowered himself to his stomach on Sheppard's other side. Teyla, Laura, Ellis and McKay slowly made their way to the top of the mound to join them.

The Colonel and the Major took out binoculars.

"Two," Sheppard announced. "Armed." He handed Ronon the binoculars. "Looks like they're coming this way."

Ronon confirmed Sheppard's assessment. Two men carring rifles were heading in their direction. They wore common clothes, faded with use, and carried weapons that at the distance looked to be more for hunting game than soldering.

They could be villagers looking to bring down a buck for dinner, or they could be a security patrol.

He'd bet on the second, and told Sheppard as much as handed back the binoculars.

John turned to the others, passing on the information. "Until we know what's going on, let's avoid an altercation," he said to the others, ending with a pointed look at Ronon.

Ronon snorted. He would make no promises.

Sheppard gave Sanchez and Browne a heads up. If the two men did reach the gate, they were to be disarmed, questioned, and detained.

"Got something!" Rodney called out, drawing everyone's attention. The scientist lifted himself to his knees and held the scanner in the air. Then he shook his head and frowned. "Okay. Well, I had something."

"What did you see?" Sheppard asked.

"A transponder signal," Rodney replied. "But it's gone."

"The Doc?" Evan asked hopefully.

"She'd be the only one here besides us..." Rodney tipped his head.

"Are you sure?" Ronon questioned, burying his concern beneath the confirmation that she was here.

"Of course I'm sure." Rodney held the scanner above his head, then lowered it when nothing changed. "I think."

"Is she in the village?" Evan asked.

Rodney shook his head. "The signal was somewhere to the north. Or...south." He held the scanner behind him, then moved it back to his front. After making an adjustment he pointed to the high ridgeline across the valley. "According to this, there is a wide vein of xermalancite running just below the surface of that escarpment. It circles around to a point thirty four kilometers directly behind us."

"Xermalancite?" Teyla asked, pronouncing the word delicately.

"It's a highly reflective metal compound," the scientist answered, lowering the scanner. "Certainly explains why our coms are echoing. The signals are bouncing back and forth between them."

"So once we get past it, the signal will clear up?" Lorne asked.

"Should," Rodney nodded. "Once we get to the top of that ridge..." he pointed to the baren rockface the two villagers were cresting, then looked at Sheppard.

"I sense a but coming..." John frowned.

"But," Rodney scratched the side of his neck. "It may also mean the radios won't work at all once we're on the other side."

"Because of the reflection?" Evan clarified.

Rodney nodded. "It's like a ball bouncing between two walls. There's no place for it to go except between the walls."

"We'll deal with it when we get there," John announced climbing to his feet. "But first we have to get there. Keep going," he ordered. He turned to Ronon. "Stay off the path."

Anxious to be moving, Ronon waited just long enough for the two men across the valley to descend as far as the treeline before continuing forward once again.

* * *

><p>The sun was high above the trees when John halted the group in sight of the village.<p>

Keeping to the heavy shadows provided by the thick forest surrounding the outbuildings, he moved the team in as close as he dared.

They'd avoided three more sets of patrols since the initial pair had passed them on the way to the gate. All three were armed, but instead of the direct, purposeful steps the first two had taken, these three pairs were moving randomly, poking through the underbrush and checking behind the deadfall while calling out for someone named Calara.

John would have liked to have warned Sanchez and Browne about the other villagers, but McKay had been right about the signal loss. As soon as they'd crossed the escarpment they'd completely lost contact with the two men at the gate. At Rodney's direction, Sanchez had contacted Atlantis to have Zelenka jury-rig a signal relay which the Captain would then need to hike to the top of the ridgeline. Best guess they'd be out of communication for a good four hours.

Plenty of time to find the Doc.

Sheppard dropped to one knee and pulled out his binoculars. Whatever was going on around the village, was also going on in the village. It was a mass search. Lids were being ripped off barrels and the contents searched. Two men searched through a cart filled with bushels of produce. Another stepped into a small shed and stepped out again, shaking his head. Several more were forcing their way in through the narrow doors of the homes, only to return again a few moments later empty handed.

"They're raiding their own town?" Rodney asked.

"They're searching for something." Laura responded.

"Someone," Evan corrected. "Ten o'clock," he pointed to the left of the main square.

John shifted focus. Through the rows of double storey dwellings, a group of men approached the square, each one forcefully escorting one or two of the village women.

John scanned the gathered females. All the right age, but none had the shock of blonde hair he hoped to see. He didn't comment on Evan's agreeing sigh, but continued to watch as the men half-dragged the women towards the elderly lady standing near the well in the middle of the square.

The old woman strode in front of the gathered housewives and townswomen like a general inspecting the troops. She waved her arms in anger, berating several of the women who looked confused, afraid, or near to tears. The old woman shook her head, shouted something intelligible at the men. The village men released their hold and ordered the women away.

The village women practically ran back into the town, their hurried footsteps scattering them until they'd all disappeared.

"What the hell was that all about?" he asked aloud.

No one answered. Not that he expected them to.

"Do you think that's the old lady Doc went to help?" Evan eventually asked.

John stared at the crone who was commanding orders to several pairs of armed men. "Does't look to be on her death bed to me," he answered.

From the opposite side of the square, another man approached the old woman, tugging a curly haired blonde with one hand, and a redhead with the other. John's attention immediately honed in on the blonde, but this girl was barely out of her teens. Unlike her redheaded companion who looked more confused than frightened, the younger blonde was in tears.

"John," Teyla dropped to her knees next to John, placing a hand on his shoulder and drawing his attention. He lowered the binoculars.

Teyla handed him a dog eared photograph with heavy lines creasing the center where it had been folded and re-folded multiple times. The image was a brown and white snapshot of a family of four-mother, father, and two siblings, all smiling for the camera.

The young man jumped out at John immediately. Daro. The Genii boy who'd lost his sister.

Teyla placed her index finger on the young girl in the photo, then pointed to the village. "The woman with the red hair."

John lifted the binoculars and concentrated on the young redhead who was comforting the wailing blonde as they hurried away from the square.

"Daro's sister," he said, lowing the binoculars once the two women were out of sight behind a building.

Teyla nodded. "Daro gave me this before we left. I made no promises but did tell him I would keep an...eye out...for her."

"Looks like you found her."

"Yes," Teyla nodded, tucking the photo back into the pocket of her vest.

"So where's Keller?" Rodney asked, shaking his head. He stuffed his binoculars into his pocket and pulled out the Ancient scanner. "Still nothing," he commented, shaking his head.

John glanced up at Ronon who was watching the scene in the village from the shadow of a wide tree trunk. Ronon sensed the answer and turned before Sheppard to put words to the thoughts tumbling through his mind.

Men patrolling the woods looking for someone. The old hag dragging the town's women out of their homes. Village being torn apart to find something hidden. And no transponder signal.

The Satedan's mouth twitched, but he didn't break into a smile.

"You think?" John posed, asking the question without need for detail.

"Yep," Ronon answered.

John turned to Rodney. "McKay, where did you see that transponder signal before it disappeared?"

Rodney glanced down at his scanner with a frown. He blinked, then tipped his head in acquisition. "That way," he answered, pointing to his left.

John gave Ronon the nod. The Satedan was off before Rodney finished arguing with himself about the affects of signal loss and planetary geology.

"Where's he going?" Rodney stopped mid-explanation.

"To find the Doc," Evan answered, tucking his binoculars into his vest and standing.

John turned to the Major. "Take Ellis and Cadman and work your way around to the south east. See if you can get a bead on Daro's sister. And you," he addressed Cadman before she could protest being left at the village, "know how the Doc thinks. Keep your eyes out for what she might consider a good hiding spot."

"Ha," Laura snorted.

Ellis grinned at the Lieutenant. "With her luck? Probably something with pointy parts."

"You know it," John nodded. "Teyla, McKay, you're with me."

"Oh yay," Rodney muttered. "More walking."

.


	11. Chapter 11

"Drink this."

Unwilling to open both eyes to the pain pounding in her head, she cracked one eyelid, winced, and squeezed it shut again. It wasn't working.

He slid his arm under her neck and lifted her upper body. The movement increased the pressure behind her skull and she whimpered.

"You need to drink this, Jennifer. It will help."

_Jennifer_.

The word-the name-sounded so foreign. So wrong. Yet she knew it to hear it from his lips, it was her name. But whenever he said it, called it, something about his voice made her want to hear him say it again because somehow she recognized the sound despite the wailing drums clanging inside her skull.

She felt the smooth edge of a cup against her lower lip. Forcing her shaking arms to obey, she lifted her hands but could do little more than press them over his. She didn't have the coordination to take the cup from him, so she left her cold fingers against his warm skin and let him make the movements.

Gulping greedily, she coughed, surprised when a cold liquid filled her mouth.

It wasn't Thea's soup.

"Slowly," he ordered. She tried to push his hands away but only succeeded in dropping her own arms away from his.

She twisted her head away from the stone cup. "Thea's soup," she managed to mumble around the sickly sweet taste that tangled her tongue.

"That soup is what got you in this mess in the first place," he countered. "This will help."

She shook her head when he placed the cup against her mouth.

"I promise you this will take the headache away. You can drink it, or I can force you to drink it."

Through the pain she knew his words were a threat, but his tone carried no bite. He was big enough, strong enough he could very well force her to drink the liquid until she drowned... but he wouldn't. Of that she was certain.

This traveller-Kiryk-would never hurt her.

She chanced opening her eyes, wincing as she squinted up into his shadowed face. With his back to the fire she could see nothing of his expression other than a big, blurry shadow.

"I trusted you to save my life once," he said gruffly. "Trust me to save yours."

_Gods, if only she could remember!_

She wanted the pain gone. She wanted her mind back. But most of all she wanted to know that her heart was telling her the truth. Something was not right in this place. Her family. Her village. Everything felt so horribly wrong until the very second she'd seen this man. With everything so frighteningly disconnected, he was the one piece of the puzzle that made her want to believe.

Fighting against her aching head, she lifed her hands and placed her trembling fingers against his.

As soon as she finished drinking the sweet concoction, he helped her lay back onto the rough pallett. When he moved aside, the light from the fire burned her sensitive eyes and she squeezed them closed.

Despite the warmth that should have been coming from the nearby flames, she started to shiver. Her skin felt sticky. Clammy. She was beneath a blanket yet she felt as though she were surrounded in ice. She tried to go back to sleep, but her mind wasn't willing to let go of the conscious existence just yet.

The cold was a bad sign. The cave was warm with the fire, but the rocks were damp. Damp was bad. Damp cold was bad. But why was damp cold bad?

A sold weight settled across her body. An immediate warmth seeped through the thin blanket she lay beneath. She peeked out through her eyelashes as Kiryk tucked his coat down around her. Her fingers gripped the edge of the new covering, the cool leather chilling her palms despite the heat that radiated from the inner lining of the heavy material.

She sighed and snuggled deeper into the protective layer. It smelled of leather and rainwater. As the shaking slowed the dreams came, and she drifted back into the city in the sky with the beautiful symbols and the strange people who knew her name.

* * *

><p>The next time she woke her body was on fire.<p>

She fought blindly to free herself from the tangled coverings that smothered her. Shoving the constrictive material away from her skin, she whimpered and rolled away from the fire that burned so closely. Her hair was damp and sticky, clinging to her cheeks and her neck. She shoved it away from her skin, pleading with the tangled mess to get away from her neck and shoulders.

An extra set of hands pushed her hair higher, brushing it off her forehead and away from her cheeks. Cool air reached the now uncovered skin of her face and neck, but it wasn't enough.

Icy cold clamped down across her forehead. She sighed at the welcome chill, clamping her hand down over a wet cloth, crushing it against her boiling skin. Beads of cold water ran down across her temples and dripped into her hairline. More. She wanted more. She dragged the cloth down over her face, then shoved it back to her forehead.

Hot.

So hot.

A second cloth landed gently across her neck. She whimpered and tried to grab it.

"Stop," a low voice commanded.

She opened her eyes and concentrated on the face swimming blurrily above hers. Hazel eyes. Dark hair twisted with a ring of silver. She reached up, lifing her fingers to the side of his neck-the tattoo of lines and dots... but before she could touch it the image shifted and faded until the face above was transformed into that of the traveller.

"Kiryk?" she whispered through the confusion, letting her arm drop down.

He pulled her hand away from the cloth at her neck. "Lay still." He forced her arm down then wrapped her wrist in a strip of wet material.

She sucked in a breath as the cold water ran down her arm to her elbow. He placed her arm at her side then repeated the procedure with her right hand.

"So hot," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

He removed the cloth on her head.

She opened her mouth to protest, to demand it back, but a fresh stream of water was running into her hair and down her cheeks before she could get the words out. He replaced the cloth on her forehad and switched the one at her neck. He repeated the process, swapping each with a fresher, cooler one. She lost count of the number of transfers, letting the repetitive motion and sound of dripping water in the bowl beside her head lull her into the dream world once more.

* * *

><p>The fire cast long, dancing shadows across the ceiling of the cavern. She struggled to remember exactly why she was looking at a rocky outcropping instead of a formed ceiling, but the thoughts were a tumbled mess of images and memories bouncing around with each pounding bash of her heartbeat against the inside of her skull.<p>

She knew she should have jumped. Screamed. Made a sound. The other her would have let out a howl to wake up in a cave with no recollection of how she got there. But she couln't muster the energy to react with anything more than a whisper of confusion.

Closing her eyes she tried to go back to sleep but the thumping in her head would give her no peace. She tried to adjust her position but at best was only able to roll her head to the side. Brightness pulsed through her closed eyelids making her stomach lurch. She immediately rolled her head to the other side, sighing at the welcome darkness.

She never suffered from migranes, but often wondered at the severity of the symptoms. Light sensitivity. Excrutiating pain. Loss of vision. Nausea. Next time she had a patient with a migrane she wouldn't secretly think they were exaggerating. Never. Never again.

A scrape of sound made her want to open her eyes again. Before she could register the hulking shape as Kiryk, his hand slid beneath her head and down her back, prying her up off the floor.

"Drink," he commanded, lifting a cup to her lips.

She didn't argue.

As soon as she finished drinking the syropy sweet concoction, he lowered her to the palett. She curled onto her side away from the fire.

"Hot or cold," he asked.

She couldn't answer. She didn't think she was neither hot, nor cold. She had only the pain in her head. Deciding she wanted a covering, she reached weakly behind her for her blanket. He pulled the blanket over her and tucked it around her.

"More?" he asked.

She rocked her head side to side. "I'm good," she mumbled, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead and burying her face in her arm.

"Sleep."

She agreed. Sleep was good.

It was the waking up part that wasn't.


	12. Chapter 12

_AUTHOR NOTE: Yes I'm still alive! :P I didn't realize the title of the story would be so appropriate for posting and such a huge delay in chapters! You might want to go back and re-read from the beginning to catch up on the characters and the story before continuing on! :) As always, any spelling and grammar mistakes are mine! _

* * *

><p>Tomas stood in the doorway of the shop, listening to Thea command the others. He bit back his own orders, defaulting to the old woman. Crossing her was not an option. Not if he wanted to remain in his heightened position within the village.<p>

Patrols were being dispersed in wider circles around the village, each one seeking the blonde woman who'd so mysteriously disappeared from her locked room.

Two more women were brought forward for Thea to question, one of whom was crying openly at being subject to the Matriarch's harsh words.

Sappy useless female.

Tomas crossed his arms over his chest, his fists still clenched tightly. He'd wasted too many hours researching his perfect wife to lose her this easily. He'd passed off the other acquisitions to the men of the village, finding fault with each one in turn. Too skinny. To mousy. To quiet. To stupid. No, unlike the others who'd settled for someone to cook a passable meal and perform services in bed, Tomas' list of needs had been extensive. Beauty. Brains. Personality. But most of all he wanted a woman he could have a conversation with. One who wouldn't burst into tears at the first sign of discontent. A woman who, with the help of Thea's soup, he could mold into the perfect wife for a man in his position.

How could he lead his people as Thea's Primary with a simpering brainless gnat at his side?

He couldn't.

And now, now that he'd finally found his prize after nearly exhausting his search from planet to planet, she'd run away.

He dropped his arms and reached for his rifle.

When he caught up to his Calara he was going to teach his future wife just what it meant to disobey him. It would mean he would need to give her more soup to make her forget his transgression, but that was the price that would have to be paid. After all the Village Primary couldn't very well be known to be hitting his wife.

He stepped off the porch and joined Thea.

"Get them out of here," the old woman ordered, flipping her hand dismissively at the two crying wives.

Their husbands dragged the two women away.

Before Tomas could speak his request to go and find his future wife, a group of men who'd been posted to the south river came up to Thea.

"Well?" Thea asked.

"Nothing," they reported. "There's no sign of her. We sent two men to watch the path to the ring."

"Very good," Thea answered. "Now go help the others check the trails to the west. This one is smart, but she's no woodsman. She may have run into the woods, but she'll stick to hard packed trails as soon as she finds them."

The two men turned and hurried away.

Thea turned to Tomas, her disapproval evident in her scowl.

"Don't look at me," he countered. "You said the soup would work."

She walked past him and headed into the building. "The fault is not with the soup," she snapped. "Now make yourself useful. Take Maron and go find your wife. Do not return until you have found her, and this time, make sure she isn't able to leave."

Tomas nodded, pleased to have finally been given permission to do something other than stand around.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Cadman and Ellis ducked down behind a huge collection of grain and seed bags beside a small barn. A small patrol of armed village men stepped out of one of the outlying buildings and were soon joined by two more men. They stood in the middle of the road and had a lengthy debate over what to do next.

Laura blinked at Ellis when the description of their quarry was a woman with long blonde hair.

"I'd say we're getting our hopes up thinking that just because she's blonde, they're looking for the Doc," Ellis whispered. "But she's the only one I know who can cause this much of a commotion when she isn't even here."

Laura grinned. "That's our girl. One missing person away from a riot."

The argument circled around just which one of them was going to tell the old woman they hadn't had any luck finding the missing woman.

"That old biddy sure has them running scared," he commented. "That'll be you at eighty. All psycho and scarey."

"That's me _now_," she countered, watching as the men headed back into the main part of town.

Ellis snorted.

After the village men were gone, Ellis inched closer to the edge of the grain bails. "They've done a pretty good job of ripping the town apart."

"Yeah I was thinking the same." Laura answered, following him as they shifted position in behind a crooked shed.

"What do you think?" he pointed to building a couple over with a peaked roof and a set of gabled windows. "Get some height and have a look-see?"

Laura frowned at the building. "I don't know. Jen's more of a panic and craw into a hidey-hole than a take the stairs kind of gal. She'd have found a nice small spot to scurry into. Something these fatso's wouldn't be able to crawl into."

"So you want to stay low?"

"Turn around!" The shouted command came from directly behind them.

Ellis rolled his eyes at Laura as they turned to face a half-dozen rifles pointed directly at them. "You should have heard them coming," he grumped.

"Maybe I did," she countered with a wink.

Ellis sighed as they turned to face a motley collection of village men, each holding a rifle. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Well, you wanted to take a look around," Laura countered, raising her arms in surrender.

"I hate you," Ellis muttered.

A tall skinny man with a fat, crooked nose took a hesitant step towards them. "Put your weapons on the ground."

Laura set her P90 onto an empty farm cart, and put her sidearm with it. Ellis followed. She put her hands back into the air, taking a chance that the local yokels weren't going to expect them to have anything other than those 2 items. Most farmers seemed to be stuck on the bright shiny draw of the big weapons, and miss everything else.

She wasn't disappointed.

"Move," the hawk-nosed man ordered, hooking his boney hand around Laura's upper arm. She let him spin her around, and march her forward further into the village.

They passed several smaller barns and storage sheds before they stopped next to a squat barn with double doors.

"Tie them up," hawk-nose ordered.

Laura was trussed to a wooden post that ran two stories up into the rafters. The rough rope bit into her wrists, digging tightly. She pulled her wrists apart, hoping to give herself some slack to work with later, but the caught her hands and secured them tightly together. Across the barn Ellis was being shackled with a chain dangling down the wall from a beam high above.

Once they were secure, hawk nose ordered the men outside and closed the double doors. Through the wooden slats the group argued over which of them would search the woods for more outsiders, which would remain behind to guard the door, or which unlucky sap was the one who had to tell 'Thea' they'd captured some strangers.

Judging from the way none of them wanted to be elected to make the announcement, Laura figured Thea had to be the name of the old biddy calling the shots.

"See, we're learning new things already," she commented.

"Right," Ellis nodded. "Be sure to tell the Colonel that when you try and explain the maniacal genius of your plan to get us tied up so we can eavesdrop through barn-board." He gripped the chains that kept his arms pinned high above his head. "For simple folk they sure make strong iron," he muttered. "How come you get a measly piece of twine and I have chains?"

Laura wriggled against the course rope wrapped around her middle. "Obviously they think I'm harmless," she grinned.

Ellis tisked. "If only they knew the real truth."

"Can you reach your com?" she asked.

He blinked, and made a face, waving at her with his hands that dangled from the shackled loops above his head. "Seriously. You're really asking that."

"Just a question."

"Why don't you ask Mr. Ed? Maybe he has a telephone?"

Laura glanced into the big brown eyes of a horse that was checking her out from over the back of the stall behind her. "Don't suppose you feel like chewing through these, do ya?" she asked, wriggling her wrists.

The horse nickered in her ear.

"Right. That's what I thought."

Footsteps outside had them both looking towards the front doors. The barrier was lifted and the doors opened wide.

The weathered, elderly woman from the village walked into the barn followed immediately by hawk-nose, and two other men. Despite her obvious age, the old woman moved quickly, and with purpose, brushing over Ellis with a glance and stopping to stand directly in front of Laura.

"Hold her head," she ordered hawk-man.

Laura sucked in a breath when the man grabbed her face, holding her head steady while the crazy old woman pulled at the twisted braid in the back of Laura's hair. "What the hell!" she hissed, trying to twist her face free of hawk-nose's grasp.

"Hey!" Ellis shouted, straining against his chains. The two newcomers trained their rifles on him.

The old woman pulled Laura's hair free and tugged it, yanking her head back roughly. She shoved at Laura's gums, looking into her mouth and nose.

"She'll do," the old woman announced, letting go. Hawk nose stepped back.

Laura closed her mouth. The old woman's fingers tasted like dirt and death. She licked her teeth and spat on the ground at the crone's feet.

Hawk nose raised his hand, fully prepared to backhand her, but the old woman stopped him. "But Thea," he whined, clearly disappointed.

Thea turned to face the other two men. "Lock them in, then go find Codder. Help him get rid of this one. Some place dark and deep." She tipped her chin at Ellis.

"Yes, Thea," they answered.

"You," she turned on hawk-nose. "Go bring me Tomas and Maron. I'm going to make some more soup. As soon as it's done you'll bring it back and give it to her. Just the soup," she clarified.

He glared at Laura, but turned to do the old woman's wishes.

Once they were alone in the barn once more, Laura pushed the tension out of her shoulders and abdomen. She pulled at her arms, wishing she could reach the knife in her boot and get her hands free. Finding Jen had almost taken a second seat to getting a piece of gum out of her pocket so she could get the taste of the old woman's dirty fingers out of her mouth.

Behind her the horse whinnied and curled his lips, showing her his teeth.

"Yeah I bet you think that was funny," she muttered.

Across the barn Ellis let out a dramatic sigh. "How come I get dead and you get soup?"

"The way she said '_soup'_ makes me wonder if dead might be the better option."

.

.

.


	13. Chapter 13

When the barn door swung open, Laura tensed, working through a half dozen options to take out hawk nose if he came near her. It would be difficult with only her legs free, but certainly not impossible. She cast a glance over at Ellis, who tensed and nodded. Whatever was about to happen, they weren't going to make it easy.

Instead of the returning village men, a skinny young girl with curly blonde hair dashed into the middle of the barn.

Laura stared at the child. She couldn't have been more than ten years old, wearing a frilly smock and boots that were too big for her feet. She gawked wide-eyed at Laura, then Ellis, then turned and scurried back to the front.

"Wait!" Laura called out.

The child ignored her. She ran to the door and pushed it wide, holding it open for a redheaded woman who was dragging the unconscious body of one of the village men.

Laura looked at Ellis.

"Didn't see that coming," he muttered.

As soon as they were inside the girl rushed back out and returned immediately, struggling with an armload of burlap.

The redhead swung the door closed and wedged a pitchfork through the handles.

The girl lost her hold on the burlap, spilling out a familiar looking collection of weapons.

"Or that…" Ellis added.

"Careful Mina!" the redhead hissed at the blonde. "Those are very dangerous."

"Sorry…" the young girl answered, stooping to reach for one of the P90s which had slid under a barrel.

"Leave it," the redhead ordered. She threw a round ring of jingling keys at the blonde. "Unlock him."

While the girl sorted carefully through the keys to find the one that worked the locks around Ellis' wrists, the redhead pulled a small knife from the pocket of her smock and sawed through the ropes binding Laura's wrists.

"We don't have much time," the redhead announced, using a chunk of Laura's rope to bind the arms of the unconscious man on the floor. "Codder will be here any minute."

Retrieving her weapons, Laura headed to the front of the barn to check the street. The gravel lane was still empty, but she doubted it was going to last much longer.

A rattling clunk behind announced the release of Ellis's bindings.

Ellis grabbed his P90 and clipped it to his vest. He joined Laura at the front door, the girl at his heels.

"How's it look?" he asked.

"Clear," Laura answered. "For now."

The redhead removed the pitchfork from the handles and started to open the door but Laura grabbed her arm. "Not that we're not grateful for the help, but what's in it for you?" She'd already decided the redhead had to be Daro's sister, but after being gone half a year without word to her brother or any of her people, Laura had to wonder at the state of the woman's captivity. The woman certainly seemed free enough to walk around bashing unsuspecting farmers over the head…so why was she still on the planet?

"Walk and talk," the redhead challenged. "Trust me when I say you don't want to be here when Codder arrives."

Laura blinked at the sass, but relented. The woman _had_ set them free and returned their weapons. "Fine. Walk and talk."

The redhead nodded and inched the front door of the barn open. "There is an alley directly across the street, between the buildings, there. It follows the side of the barn to where it backs into the trees. Get across the street without being seen and we can go straight into the forest. Mina and I will go first. Wait for our signal, then follow. Quickly."

Without waiting for an answer she pushed the child out the door and into the street.

Ellis bumped against Laura while they watched through the crack in the door. "Guess that answers that question," he mused, tugging on Laura's loose hair. "It's a redhead thing."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Stopping along the side of a creek bed, Tomas called out to a pair of men who were returning to the village. Even through the trees he instantly recognized the hulking shape of Codder. The oversized idiot might have had the thought process of a rock, but to his credit, he also had hands like one—the mountain could knock a man out with a flick of his wrist. Thankfully his inability to think for himself made him the perfect muscle for Thea to use as she saw fit. Where Tomas had Maron to use for his dirty work, Thea had Codder.

"Has there been any sign of Calara?" Tomas asked Alaan, the skinny man walking with Codder.

"No," Alaan replied. "But we had to stop looking. Thea wanted Codder to take care of some intruder she found."

"Intruders!" Tomas exclaimed. Thea had mentioned nothing of intruders to him. He immediately thought of the traveller who'd come into the village yesterday and his keen interest in Calara. He described the man to Alaan.

"No, this man had dark hair," Alaan answered. "And they were wearing uniforms, like soldiers. Blue. With dark vests. And a yellow crest on the shoulder."

"_They_?" Tomas clarified.

"He was with a woman. A redhead. Pretty. Thea said we could keep her, but Codder was supposed to take care of the man, first."

Tomas' eyes narrowed at the description of the uniforms the pair were wearing. Few planets had an organized military with enough presence to wear matching uniforms other than the Genni, but they wore a heavy green. Blue with a yellow crest here in the village could only mean one thing.

The 'Lanteans were here.

And if there were two in the village then there were more coming.

If they weren't here already.

He looked around, eyeing the trees with renewed wariness.

"Where have the teams been searching," he demanded of Alaan.

"We've covered the ground between here and the river," Alaan answered, pointing behind him in the rough direction of the gate. "No one has seen any trace of her. Which in itself isn't right."

Thea had most of the men searching the land on the gate side of the village. Without more of Thea's soup, his future wife would be feeling the effects of the root. Incapacitating pain. She would be in no condition to walk, run, or do anything other than lay in the dirt in a ball of agony. Not even Codder could miss her.

Tomas frowned. They'd all made the judgement that the woman had run for the gate…but what if they were wrong?

He turned to look back through the trees in the direction of the village. He _had_ picked her for her smarts, after all. Perhaps more so than he'd first realized.

_They were looking on the wrong side of the village._

"Go find the others," he commanded Alaan. "Tell them to keep watch for more soldiers. If they see any, they are to kill, without mercy."

Alaan blanched. "Kill?"

"You heard me," Tomas snapped. "Just do it. And be quick about it."

"But Thea wanted—"

"I'll take care of Thea," Tomas answered. "Now go. Codder, you come with us."

With Maron and Codder in tow, Tomas turned and headed back the way he'd come. If Calara wasn't in the valley around the village, or the forest on the way to the gate, then the only direction left was that of the rocky ridge.

_Very good, Calara. Very good._

Knowing he'd figured out her trickery made him smile.

She was smart, yes. A worthy wife.

But it wouldn't do to have her thinking she was smarter than he.

A lesson he was going to be quite happy to teach her as soon as he got her hands on her skinny little neck.

.

.

.


	14. Chapter 14

As soon as they reached the shelter of the trees, Laura demanded answers, but the redhead wasn't ready to share.

"Where are the rest of your people?" the woman demanded, looking around at the trees.

Ellis shook his head. "No people. Just the two of us."

"Unless things have changed that badly in my absence, the 'Lantean's still have a treaty with my people, the Genii. And knowing that, I also know very well your teams are of four. Not two."

"So you are Daro's sister," Laura said.

The woman smiled. "I should have known my brother wouldn't have let me go that easily. Yes. I'm Shaana. And this is my friend, Mina. Although I have a feeling it was not us you came to rescue."

Laura shook her head. "The old bat took one of our people." She quickly described Jen.

Mina bobbed her head eagerly. "Calara," she answered. "But Shaana knew that wasn't her name."

"I met your Doctor Keller several times before Thea's people brought me here," Shaana admitted. "I knew who she was the second I saw her."

"Then she _is_ here!" Laura exclaimed.

Shaana shook her head. "She _was_ here. But she disappeared sometime during the night. No one knows how. Or where she went. Thea is tearing the village apart looking for her."

Laura almost laughed. They'd been right. Jen had somehow managed to get away and disappear. She started to reach for her com, but the next part of the conversation stilled her hand.

"No one has ever left the village before," Mina said, her face scrunched in seriousness. "It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Laura looked at Shaana for explanation.

"Thea does not allow the women to leave the village," Shaana confirmed. "Consequences of such an indiscretion…can be…deadly."

Mina bobbed her head, her eyes wide with fear and worry. "They killed Arana. Poisoned her with that terrible soup."

"Soup?" Laura repeated, thinking of Thea's command to have hawk nose bring 'soup' back to the barn.

"Regnig root," Shaana answered.

"Poison?" Laura asked.

"It erases your mind," Mina answered.

"Erases your mind?" Ellis repeated, stopping to lift the girl over a large piece of deadfall.

"You know, make you forget everything," Mina answered, standing on top of the log. She leaned closer to Ellis. "You forget _forever_."

The knot it Laura's abdomen that had lessened at the news Jen was on the planet, tightened right back up again.

"Sounds like you were right about the soup," Ellis said to Laura, hopping over the log to help Mina down off the other side.

"Shanna says that is the only soup Thea feeds pretty girls," the young girl answered, refusing to let go of Ellis' hand once she was back on the ground. "I'm not old enough yet. But Shaana says I wouldn't like Thea's soup anyway. She says it tastes like mud."

Ellis continued forward, the girl bouncing chattily along beside him.

"Quiet voice, Mina," Shaana cautioned.

"It tastes like mud," Mina repeated, her whisper nearly as loud as her regular voice.

"Regnig root grows on many planets, but it is rare to find," Shaana explained while they walked. "It has many medicinal uses, but it is also very deadly. Some planets use it freely, many others have laws against its use. In little doses it can be very helpful. Easing pain, especially around the head and shoulders. In larger does it can help people forget terrible actions or memories. It erases recent events. Wipes them clean. But too big a dose, and it isn't just what you have seen recently that you can forget."

"It forgets everything," Mina added. "Shaana said if you eat too much you can't remember who you are. Even your name. But I haven't had any soup so I still remember my name. Mina Chrissa Cait Drican, of the planet Syawa."

"Sounds like you're a long way from home," Ellis replied.

Mina nodded. "I miss my family," she said, her eyes glossing. "And Papa. And Kika. He's my horse." Then she flashed a wide smile. "Kika is my friend. My best. Papa gave him to me. I hope they have remembered to feed him while I was gone. He is very picky."

"I'm sure they're taking good care of him while you are away," Ellis soothed.

The little girl smiled. "Do you have a horse?"

Shaana slowed her steps, letting Ellis and Mina get a little further ahead. "Thea hides the root in her soup," she continued, her voice just loud enough for Laura's ears. "Then she forces it on the women she brings back. After the first bowl wears off it causes a nice little headache. More soup makes the pain go away, but then it returns sooner, and stronger, making you want to keep eating the soup to stop the headache."

"After a few days they forget everything about themselves. Thea can give them a new name and a new life. I was lucky. My mother was a healer. That's how I met your Doctor. My mother worked with Regnig root and taught me how to use it. Properly. I smelled the root in the soup right away and was able to hide the fact that I was not eating it. I know the symptoms. I knew how I was supposed to react."

"What about Mina," Laura asked, watching the strange pair of Ellis and the innocent girl with the bouncy blonde curls.

Shaana shook her head. "Thea is a monster, but even she wouldn't consider Mina old enough. No, it is those of us of age that Thea brought here to pair up with a husband."

"Husband?" Laura asked, making a troubled connection to a memory wipe and a village full of kidnapped women. Then she remembered Thea's hair and teeth examination in the barn. "Oh geeze," she muttered.

"Thea's form of an arranged marriage," Shaana confirmed with an angry scowl. "Not all the women in the village are acquisitions. Some were born here. But Thea likes to pick proper wives for those in her favour."

"So if you didn't have any of the soup…then you've been pretending to be someone's _wife_?"

"I pretended to be who they wanted me to be. I did what I had to do. I knew if I waited, if I had patience, I would find a way home."

"So why haven't you left before now," Laura asked.

Shanna scowled. "Not for lack of trying. There are at least three men on watch for every woman in the village. That, and I was not conscious when I arrived. The only thing I know about the gate is it is nearly a day's hike from the village, but I have no idea which direction to even start walking in. Weapons here are not as advanced as ours, or yours. At the most I would have had one rifle against the entire village. I almost had the opportunity right after the harvest, but then that idiot Codder showed up with Mina in tow."

Laura's stomach dropped. She stared at the little girl hopping on one foot down the trail, still holding firmly to Ellis' hand. "He wanted Mina…"

"No. I would have killed him for that," Shaana answered with a definitive ferocity. "Codder's wife can't have any more children. The oaf thought Mina would make a pretty present. Once I saw her, I knew I couldn't just leave her here. But that also meant I couldn't leave as I'd originally planned. Not without making sure I could take her with me."

Laura glanced over at Mina and understood the dilemma. With only a single shot weapon, and no clue as to direction, an untrained adult would have a difficult time making the trek against Thea's angry hoard. Add in the responsibility of having a child in tow…

She gave Shaana an appreciative nod. Not many women would have had the balls to do what she'd done and keep her wits about her and morals intact enough to want to help a stranger's child.

The desire to beat the shit out of the psychotic old woman jumped up several more notches.

"Did Thea give Jennifer any of the soup?" Laura asked, worried about how far Thea would have gone with Jen.

"Don't worry. Your friend has not been here long enough for the root to take full effect. She will not remember who she is, but if she does not take any more of the root, her mind should come back to her as it was before."

"Should?" Laura honed in on the word.

"Playing with the mind is a dangerous game. I will tell you this. After the amount she has already had, stopping the soup so abruptly will leave your Doctor very sick. As I said, it makes Thea's job easier to keep giving more of the soup. It stops the hurt. Wherever she is, wherever she is hiding, I promise you, your friend is in an immense amount of pain. The kind that even the strongest of soldiers cannot manage alone. Unless she has found herself someplace where sound will not carry, Thea's men _will_ find her. And when they do, there will be no going back. Your Doctor will be lost to you forever."

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	15. Chapter 15

_**Sorry for the lengthy delay in chapters! Don't worry I'll finish the story! The plot bunnies are kicking my butt to finish this and get on with more so here we go!**_

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><p>.<p>

Crouched next to a half-rotted trunk of a long-dead tree, Ronon touched the tips of his fingers to the treaded outline of the toe of a heavy boot print just visible in the muck beside the dead roots. Every village patrol he'd passed had been set in pairs or more, yet the trail he followed was singular.

While the marks were too big and deep-set to be Jennifer's, the puzzle of a lone man moving away from the village with obvious speed drew Ronon's full attention. Whoever he was, the man was moving with a solid stride - a purpose to his walk - not pausing to search crags and hollows as the village patrols were doing.

Ronon glanced over his shoulder to where the rocky ground hid any preceding footprints, then ahead to where they moved forward around the dead fall. He stood and stepped around the trunk, but after a few brief strides, the trail once again disappeared into nothingness.

He bit back a curse. The ground here was soft. Muddy. The boot marks should have continued without pausing, yet just as they had twice before, instead of moving forward with their steady pattern, there was nothing.

It was as though his prey had simply vanished.

Again.

Since he'd left the village he'd crossed back and forth - covering far more distance than he should have - wasting precious minutes trying to pick up a trail that should have been easy enough for a child to follow. At the first gap in footprints he'd immediately suspected a trap-yet nothing had swung, sprung, or tried to kill him. He'd taken just as much care the second time he'd suddenly lost the trail, but found nothing there either.

He exhaled slowly, frustration and concern mixed with a nagging doubt. An explanation tickled the back of his mind, but he refused to give into it until he had proof.

He tuned out Cadman's call coming across the com, only half listening as she asked Sheppard to meet her on the south-east side of the village.

He stood and analyzed the trail once more. The footsteps were definitely leading away from the village. Added with the fact that McKay had seen the transponder in this area, he knew he was in the right spot but the geography was rocky at best. For all he knew it was just another farmer he was chasing.

He disregarded that though almost as quickly as he'd considered it.

The footwear was cut for terrain, not farming. The stride was wide and deep, but contained a steadiness to the spacing. No, whoever was leaving the trail was walking with purpose, not running in escape.

He turned a slow circle, straining to see past the trees, willing himself to catch sight of the familiar flash of blonde hair that was always a beacon to her position. Night. Day. It never mattered. Even from behind in a sea of like-colored hair he could have picked her out in an instant. Out here, in the wall of green that faced him from every side she would have shone like a fiery torch, yet his eyes could find no trace of the woman he sought.

He clung to the explanation that it was Jennifer the villagers were seeking, even though he had no confirmation. McKay would not have admitted to seeing a transponder signal if he didn't instantly recognize it as such. Since the only off-world teams on this planet was the one he'd come through the gate with, there was no chance any other 'Lantean was the owner of the signal.

No, the signal was hers.

She was here.

On this planet.

He could sense her presence as strongly as any emotion he'd caged in the past few days.

But knowing wasn't finding.

Cadman's voice in his ear nagged him for a reply. He ignored her and moved forward, cautiously seeking signs of the continuation of the footprints. He considered two options. Either Jennifer was still in the village and he was chasing no one of importance—a doubtful choice judging by the level of searching that was going on back in the town—or she had escaped her captors and taken refuge somewhere in the forest.

Unassisted, he wouldn't have given her any chance of hiding from the men from the village.

But with the help of a former runner...

Ronon pushed the thoughts aside.

For Jennifer's sake he couldn't afford to fall into any trap that hope might bring. He needed clear thinking if he was going to be of any use to her, and as many facts as he could gather.

Starting with what Cadman was so anxious to tell him.

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><p>.<p>

Sheltered in the shadows of a rocky outcropping, Sheppard held back on his questions until after Cadman and Ellis explained the addition to their party - a familiar looking redhead who was definitely oozing some Genii attitude, and a cute blonde haired kid who was peeking at him from behind Ellis' back.

He winked at the kid, earning him a wide eyed stare, then a shy grin.

"Colonel Sheppard," Laura began, "I'd like you to meet Shaana, and Mina."

"You're Daro's sister," John said to the redhead.

The Genii woman nodded. "I am. Although I have to wonder at how well he described me, seeing as how everyone seems to know me before I know them."

Teyla extracted the photo Daro had given them before they'd left, and handed it over to the woman. "Your brother gave us this."

Shaana smiled sadly at the photo. She blinked furiously, forcing her eyes to clear before tucking the picture into the pocket of her skirt.

Rocks trickled down off the overhang above their heads.

John sighed, glaring up at the hulking silhouette on the ledge above. "You know, we gave you a radio for a reason..."

Mina let out a squeak and twisted herself to hide against Ellis' back as Ronon jumped off the ledge, landing fluidly beside them.

"It's okay," Ellis lowered his P90 and smiled at the young girl. "He's with us."

Without releasing her hold on Ellis waist, the child slowly peered around Ellis to stare wide-eyed at Ronon.

Ronon slowly lowered himself into a squat next to the child. "Hi."

"Hi," she whispered.

"I'm Ronon."

She looked to Ellis for confirmation before answering. "I'm Mina."

"I'm looking for a friend of mine. Pretty like you, with the same color hair only hers is straight."

Mina nodded solemnly. "Calara was here. But now she's not."

"_Calara_?" Ronon asked.

"The name they gave her," Shaana clarified. "Your Doctor Keller.

Sheppard caught Ronon's eye, reigning in a feeling of victory to hear the CMO was here. Until they had Jennifer back in their protection, their job was far from over.

"Ha!" Rodney exclaimed. "I told you I saw a transponder signal."

"Do you know where she is?" Sheppard asked.

Shaana shook her head. "She disappeared during the night. At first I thought perhaps you'd come and taken her back, but when I saw Thea take your people, I knew she'd left on her own. You wouldn't still be here otherwise."

Evan stepped forward, his gaze snapping from Cadman to Ellis and back again. "_Take our people?_" he repeated slowly.

Laura shrugged. "The Colonel said to find out where Jen was hiding…"

John sighed at her casual remark. "I'm not going to want to read that part of the mission report, am I?"

"We got the weapons back," Laura smiled. "No harm done. And now we know for sure Jen is here. Just not…here, here. Tell them about the soup," she urged Shaana.

"Soup?" Rodney chimed in.

"Trust me, McKay, this one you don't want to eat," Ellis answered.

"Lemons," Rodney sighed. "It's always lemons."

"Have you heard of Regnig root?" Shaana asked the gathered group.

"I have," Teyla answered.

John's stomach rolled over as Shaana and Teyla discussed the power of the plant the old woman had been feeding the women of the village, and why.

"Thea and Tomas have been tearing the village apart looking for your Doctor," Shaana was saying.

"Tomas?" John asked.

"Thea's eldest, although she refuses to call him her son, everyone knows he is. Your Doctor was supposed to be his new wife."

John glanced at Ronon. The Satedan's stance hadn't changed, but John could feel his energy shifting into the red.

"How much Regnig did she have?" Ronon growled.

Shaana shook her head. "That's the thing. She has only been here two days. I know Thea's schedule. Two days is long enough your Doctor will have no memory of anything before, yet she still had the foresight to escape a locked room and disappear."

"Locked room?" Ronon repeated.

The tone of the Satedan's question made John turn towards him. Ronon wasn't asking about the locked room so much as confirming. "Something you want to share?" he asked, but Ronon didn't reply.

"Thea does not allow any of her…acquisitions…free reign at night," Shaana answered. "All the rooms are well locked. Yet your Doctor managed to get through hers without unlocking it, or being seen by any of the guards. That's why Thea is in such a state. No one knows how much of a head start she has, or how she got out. Thea's locks are very sturdy."

John swore Ronon almost flashed a smile. Suspicious, he turned more fully towards him. "What?"

Ronon looked directly at John, nodded, then ran past him. "Kyrik."

John blinked at the disappearing Satedan while his mind made the connection to the name. "Wait, what? Ronon!"

But he was already gone.

"Did he just say Kyrik?" Evan asked.

"I believe he did," Teyla answered.

"What's a Kyrik?" Shaana asked.

"An old friend," John answered, adding up the fact that Ronon had given up his search awfully quickly to return to see what Laura had to say. The big guy wouldn't have dropped Doc's trail so quickly if he'd had something to follow. The man was a bloodhound of Pegasus proportions. But if Ronon had found something _else_ to go on…

John turned to Ellis. "Take McKay and the ladies back to the ridge. Zelenka should be there with the relay device by now." He looked at Rodney. "I need communication with Atlantis set up A'sap."

"Copy that," Ellis replied.

Rodney made a face.

John clamped him on the shoulder. "It's important Rodney. Once you can get through to Sanchez and Browne have them dial Atlantis. We need a medical team on standby and as much information as you can get on this Regnig root."

Rodney looked ready to argue but he changed his mind. "Just…find her."

John nodded. "No one leaves the planet without her."

Shaana stopped to shake John's hand. "Thank you, Colonel. For myself and for Mina. I have a feeling Ladon is going to owe you another one for this."

John started to smile. "You know Ladon well enough to call in that kind of a favour?"

She smiled and stepped away to accompany Ellis, who was walking with Mina at his side. "It's nice having family in high places," she commented as she walked away.

John turned back to Teyla, who was watching him with a semi-bemused expression. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

John sighed and turned in the opposite direction. "Come on. We have a Satedan to find."

.

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	16. Chapter 16

**_Here we go! As always - any typos and booboos are my fault! :P_**

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><p>Kyrik knelt next to the still form of the Lantean doctor. He brushed away the damp clumps of hair that were stuck to her cheek and placed his palm to her forehead. He was relieved to feel no lingering trace of the fiery heat that had burned through her most of the night, yet she still did not open her eyes.<p>

She worried him. He had no idea how much of the Regnig root the people of the village had given her, other than to know it had been two days' worth. When she'd taken ill much faster than he'd expected, he feared she may not survive the morning. She'd told him once that her people were not of this galaxy. It was a difficult concept to consider for some, but the ring of the Ancestors held many secrets. He'd seen too things over the years to discount her origin. And it was this that concerned him most. The root may take hold in her mind much differently that it would the people who lived with it. It had certainly taken her down much faster than it should have.

Yet true to the stubborn nature he respected of her, she'd fought through the worst of the sickness. The fight had left her weaker than he liked. She didn't wake, and her breathing was slow and shallow.

But she was alive. And that was what mattered.

He moved his hand to her wrist, wary of the clammy stickiness that covered her skin. The poison had escaped her pores, but it still clung to her in desperation. It matted her hair to her head and soaked her clothes.

Leaving the poison on her skin was dangerous. He needed to clean it off her, and quickly.

A wet cloth wouldn't do. He needed water. And lots of it.

He crossed over to the entrance of the cavern and squinted out through the shadows to the sunny afternoon beyond. The river that skirted the village flowed down from these hills. Along the way it bubbled and curled into wide pools. Once such area was close to the caves, sheltered in a heavy stand of trees. It was just a short trip up and over the ridgeline, but would involve travel across an unprotected open field. His armband could take them most of the way unseen, but the open elements concerned him. The village patrols were still circling the land on the far side of the village, but he couldn't be sure they wouldn't also be working their way towards the caves. Alone he'd have no worry, but carrying an unconscious woman...

He turned back to the darker recesses of the cave. There was no choice.

He gathered the last of the supplies and tucked them into a worn leather sack. Looping the strap over his shoulder he shoved the bulk around to his back. He kicked the remnants of the fire across the stone floor of the cave, spreading it wide to let the coals die off. Returning to the doctor, he rolled her into his coat and lifted her.

She didn't stir.

He sidestepped through the opening and into the sun.

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><p>.<p>

By the time Tomas skirted around to the far side of the village, he'd collected another half-dozen armed men to accompany himself, Maron, and Codder. While he had no issue believing Codder alone would easily dispatch any of the Lantean's they encountered, he wasn't a fool. Having both Maron and Codder to distract the Lanteans was a fine enough plan, but who would protect him while he escaped? Yes, having the extra weapons at his command was certainly in his best interest.

They followed an old hunting path that threaded along a low flowing creek bed towards the base of the hills. The trail was known only to the locals, used in the late summer season when the warm weather only a trickle of the rushing river that traveled down from the distant mountains every spring.

The gully twisted a wider path around to the hills, but it offered more cover from possible Lantean patrols than taking the main road would.

He smiled at his cleverness. The old woman would be pleased when he returned with Calara, especially when Thea herself had ordered everyone to search the side of the village that lead to the gate, and not the hills as Tomas was.

Their group reached a flattened section where the river split. Left, the river worked it's way up a rocky incline towards the waterfall. Right, it took an easier path through the flatlands to the base of the rocky hills.

The others paused at the intersection and looked to Tomas for direction.

He took a moment to consider his options.

"How far do you think she made it?" Maron asked.

Tomas shushed him. "Speak quietly," he commanded, annoyed by the interruption.

"I thought you said the Lantean's wouldn't be over here?" Maron replied, his voice lowered.

"They aren't," Tomas snapped. "But that doesn't mean you should feel free to shout."

Maron frowned, and fell silent.

Tomas returned to his consideration of his two options. "She hasn't had any of the soup since last night's meal," he mused aloud. "By now she will be quite ill, and in great pain. We are sure to hear her whimpered cries...but only if we are _quiet_..." he added with a hiss and a direct stare at the group with him.

No one spoke.

Satisfied he'd made his point, Tomas continued. "If she followed the river road, she may have managed to reach as far as the waterfall. If she took the path towards the hills, she could be anywhere along the base of the caverns..."

He squinted left, then right, trying to decipher which direction Calara would have chosen. The caves? Or the water?

The village women were always afraid of the caves. They were dark. Damp. Full of unseen crawlies that made them cry.

He snorted. Fortunately, his Calara wasn't like the simpering village women. She was smarter then all of them.

No, his Calara would not be afraid of the caverns.

She would see them as a perfect spot to hide.

He took a step onto the path toward the hills. "This way," he commanded, feeling a rush of power when the others fell into step behind him without question.

Through the meadow to the caves it was.

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><p>.<p>

It had taken much longer to reach the shallows of the river than he'd initially intended, but Kyrik had been unwilling to chance getting caught in the open with his precious package. They'd traveled under the cover of the forest as long as they could, and passing through the open spaces using his armband until it ran out.

Waiting for the Ancient stone to recharge was an exercise in patience he was unable to avoid.

He hated waiting.

The sun had crested its arc and was working its way down towards the end of day. Kyrik glared at the direction of the beams slicing through the branches high above. They had several hours yet until the sun set, but the distance to the gate was much farther than he could go before darkness fell.

He needed to find a safe place to take her for the night.

He squatted beside the woman sleeping in the rays of the sun. He'd washed the last traces of the poison from her skin and changed her into an oversized dress he'd liberated from one of the village clotheslines. The dress drowned her, but it was clean and dry. Her skin lacked color, and she had barely reacted when he'd carried her into the cool river water, but at least she breathed easier, and her heart was stronger than it had been earlier in the day.

He'd done all he could do to rid her of the Regnig root.

The rest was up to her.

He dug a hole in the soft muck beneath the water's surface, and submerged her old clothes, weighing them down beneath a heavy collection of rocks until they were hidden beneath the water. Eventually they could work their way loose, but not before they were long gone from the planet.

While he worked, he worked out their next course of action. Staying close to the village was not an option, but heading directly to the gate would also be unwise. The villagers and the old woman were tearing the local area apart with their search. He had high doubts the village men would be of any consequence for him, but he was unwilling to chance walking into any kind of gunfire with Jennifer.

He'd not had proper time to study the villagers other than to discern that the old woman was Ahmazos. Why she was here, on this planet was a puzzle. The Ahmazos leaders rarely left their home world. Yet there was no mistaking the way the old one commanded the villagers. He'd overheard her words, and while the dialect was common enough, the accent she failed to hide when she'd angrily ordered the town searched was unmistakable. Yet the other women in the village were nothing but farm wives, and those of the men he'd seen were most certainly not Ahmazos trained either.

Yet it was a fool who underestimated his enemy. The old woman was Ahmazos, so he could not chance there weren't others here somewhere.

Her old clothes completely hidden, he left the stream and returned to Jennifer.

They would head for the gate in as wide a path as possible, arcing away from the village and its occupants.

He wrapped her in his jacket and picked her up. She stirred in his arms, mumbling a weak protest. Relief lifted a heavy weight from his heart. It was a good sign, even if she wasn't truly awake now, she would be soon.

When they reached the edge of a rocky plateau, his senses overrode his intent to continue forward.

Frozen next to a heavy cluster of nut-trees, he stared across the open space, seeking any movement that was out of place.

Something wasn't right.

He took a step back and lowered Jennifer to the ground. He tucked her beneath the thick bushy branches of the trees. Tucking the satchel with the last of the food in with her, he reached for his sword and returned to the edge of the plateau. His eyes saw nothing, but his senses screamed there was something there.

Using boulders and shrubs for cover, he crossed the expanse with the help of the armband, every nerve in his body on alert. With each pause he took cover, searching for signs of what he was sensing, but no one revealed themselves. After an eternity he reached the last of the cover, ducking behind a heavy boulder a short distance from the trees. The armband was empty once again. He would have to cross the last of the distance without its help.

He inhaled, steadying himself for the run. He pushed himself upright but instead of moving foward to the trees, his mind shot out the command to turn. The air, the energy at his back had changed. There was someone behind him! Sword in hand he rotated around.

The cold metal of a gun barrel jammed into his jaw at the exact second the tip of Kyrik's sword pressed to his opponent's throat.

Neither man moved.

"Ronon," Kyrik greeted.

"Kyrik," Ronon growled.

Kyrik let the air out of his lungs, yet did not remove his sword from it's point of death at the other man's throat. Ronon was an equal match, and their trust of each other was not earned from years of battle together, but only because of the blonde haired Doctor they both held in common. It was too thin a connection to underestimate the man with his finger on a very deadly trigger.

"Where is she?" Ronon demanded. "Where's Jennifer?"

"Safe."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

Ronon exhaled and lowered his blaster.

Kyrik dropped his sword back into it's scabbard at his side.

As they crossed the open ground, Kyrik quickly explained how he'd come to be in possession of Jennifer, her missing memory, and her fight to rid herself of the Regnig root. "I gave her as much thistleberry tea as I could find to help ease the passing of the poison," he added. "But I do not know if it was enough. She is very weak."

He then demanded to know how Ronon and the Lanteans had lost someone so valued to begin with.

Ronon explained the old woman's evil game, and the village's connection to Jennifer's disappearance.

Digesting the details of what had been transpiring to the women in the village, and realizing the knowledge that could very well have been lost if Jennfer had been a victim to a full does of the Regnig root, anger took hold of him and he turned on Ronon. "I would have thought your people would take better care of their own! She should not have been there alone!"

"She wasn't alone!" Ronon snapped.

Kyrik shoved the Satedan, who grabbed his vest and yanked him forward.

Blaster to jaw and sword to throat, they stood in their deadly pose once again.

"She was alone enough to be kidnapped...again!" Kyrik pointed out, remembering how easy it had been when he'd removed the Doctor from the village to help Celise.

"For all we know you were in on it this time, too!" Ronon countered, his anger snapping his words.

"She saved my life," Kyrik countered. "And Celice's!"

"And mine," Ronon growled.

"You have a strange way of repaying your debts!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kyrik let his anger slide away. There had been enough energy between the Doctor and the Satedan the last time they'd met, even a blind man would have noticed. If Jennifer had gone missing, it had not been under Ronon's watch. So if she had not been alone, then the ones they'd sent with her were not the one she needed. He sighed, willing his explanation to make sense to the Satedan. "These Lantean's may have weapons and skills, but _they_...are not you."

After a moement, the pressure of Ronon's blaster dropped from Kyrik's jaw. "No," Ronon admitted. "They're not."

Kyrik lowered his sword.

The two men continued across the rocky ground to the trees.

Kyrik led Ronon to the cluster of nut-tree trunks. He squated down and pulled the lower branches aside.

In the leafy dirt lay his coat, and the satchel.

But Jennifer was gone.

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End file.
